


Tiallarynn: Beginning of the Four

by AceAttorneyFan



Series: Tiallarynn [1]
Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Gen, Hunters, Tiallarynn, this is my first time posting on ao3 and i am scared
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:42:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 64,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24376702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceAttorneyFan/pseuds/AceAttorneyFan
Summary: The world of Tiallarynn is home to unrepentant beasts known as Nephiles. Hunters are specially trained fighters that defend humanity from Nephiles, and they train for this life at a specialised academy - this is the fate that Damian, Morrigan, Silla and Klimt have chosen as they prepare to begin their first year at Cricland Academy. However, the soulless hordes of monsters nor the intricacies of school life are not their greatest challenge; an enigmatic man calling himself Mr. Fabricant has dark plans for humanity, and it falls to the begrudged team of four to stop him, all while attempting to overcome their own internal problems and act as a unit...
Series: Tiallarynn [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1760077
Comments: 12
Kudos: 5





	1. Taking Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One man, at his wit's end to save his only reason for living, is surprised by an unexpected enemy...

The scientist grumbled in frustration – this was taking him longer than he initially thought.

He had finished the skull. The metallic skull sat on a table before him, gleaming in the overhead light. That in itself was an accomplishment; or it would be, if this exoskeleton wasn’t just the prototype. If this was how long the prototype was taking, how long would it be until he had completed the actual project?

No, he couldn’t afford to lose hope. He couldn’t ever lose hope. He abandoned everything for this; his work, his reputation, his achievements. He had turned away from all of it with only one goal in mind.

He stepped away from his workbench and opened a door at the back of the room. He entered a smaller, box-like room. A large mechanical contraption sat in the centre of the room. It had the appearance of a bed; a mattress sat inside a metal frame. Computer screens were connected to the bed, recording the state of the one trapped inside. That is who the scientist found himself staring at – one of the only glimmers of hope left in his world.

She would never wake up on her own. That much was clear when he had seen the extent of her injuries. She survived initial treatment, but the doctors could do no more. _“We’re terribly sorry,”_ they had said. _“It is highly likely that she will be stuck in a coma for the rest of her life.”_

He had gotten angry at them. Yelled and screamed at them to do more, to wake her up, to just do something. His colleagues had pitied him, but they, too, did nothing. The only person he had left was his son, and even he had left after a heated argument on the subject. He had been left alone to suffer. He wallowed in his despair until he pushed himself to come up with a solution – if no one else could help him, he would just have to help himself.

He had built the chamber as a means of supporting her until his project was ready. She simply looked asleep, with the steady rise and fall of her chest. He had placed her favourite stuffed toys next to her. On the colder days, he removed the glass that shielded her from the world to cover her with a blanket. Still, she did not stir. By now, he didn’t expect her to.

Shaking his head, he left the room and went back to work. Stalling would only mean it would take more time to complete his work. He had to finish this as soon as possible, for his children.

Something felt different when he stepped back into his workshop. It was just a feeling – he had often been reprimanded for his ‘gut feelings’ – but he could tell something was off. He did his best to ignore it and approached his workbench. The metal skull was still sitting there, as he had left it. _It must just be paranoia from exhaustion_ , he reasoned to himself.

The eyes of the skull began to glow. The scientist frowned. He was certain he hadn’t programmed that to happen.

The skull jumped, wires flailing. The scientist stepped back, raised his arms in defence, but it was futile. He felt the wires on his face; they dug into his skin, his skull, his brain. His face felt cold and warm simultaneously – the warmth trickled down his cheek and fell onto his hands. He scratched at the clump of metal, teeth gritting with the effort. His head spun.

In the next instant, he felt nothing. He saw nothing. He was in an entirely different room than before. It was a dark abyss, with nothing but blurred imagery of machinery and clocks. The clocks ticked in time with each other; the sound was deafening.

He tried to move. Nothing happened. It was as though his own body had vanished. It didn’t even feel like he was breathing anymore. “Elladora?” he called out. “Are you… Are you there? D-”

Footsteps. Someone was approaching from within the darkness. The scientist couldn’t help but hope his daughter was answering his call, or even his son. Had his son come back? Hope flooded his entire body. That hope was washed away when he saw himself stop in front of him.

Himself?

He was staring at himself – the one glaring difference was the large, robotic extension that grew out of the left side of his face. That, and the monstrous grin that stretched across his lips.

“Who… Who are you?” The scientist asked. “What is this place? Why am I here?”

“One question at a time, please.” The other man responded, scoffing. “There’s only one of me. To answer your questions in order: my name is Mr. Fabricant, this is your mind, and you are here because I’m taking over your mind.”

The scientist stared. “What?”

“I know what you’re thinking: _‘Mr. Fabricant? But that’s my name!’_. Yes, it is, and I’m taking it for myself. I’m in control now, after all, so I get to do whatever I want.” The other man – Mr. Fabricant, as he had declared himself – paused, his grin growing wider. “Yes… whatever I want…”

“What do you want…?” The scientist whimpered. “What could you possibly…?”

“Life as a stationary skull was so boring.” Mr. Fabricant lamented, pacing in front of the scientist. “Watching you, day in and day out, bawling over that girl was painful. Not in a sympathetic way, mind you; more of a ‘I want to tear my hair out’ way. And I didn’t even have any hair to tear out!”

Mr. Fabricant laughed at his own joke. The scientist could only watch in horrified silence.

“Your plan has its merits, though.” Mr. Fabricant continued. “That I did like. I’ve been biding my time, considering my own plans… The issue was, I lacked a physical form to carry out said plans. I could have waited until you’d made me a body, but I’m not a patient soul. So, I just took yours. And now,” Mr. Fabricant paused as he grinned. “Now my operation – my revolution – can begin.”

“Revolution…?” The scientist repeated. “What do you mean…?”

Mr. Fabricant laughed. “Watch and learn, Doctor. Watch and learn.”


	2. Four Souls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian, Morrigan, Silla and Klimt - each prospective students of Cricland Academy - travel to the school and are introduced to the school's headmaster, who informs them of an induction mission before classes begin...

_“Attention to all passengers – the train will be arriving at its last stop at Ardepolis in five minutes. Please ensure you take all personal belongings with you when you leave the train.”_

Damian was snapped out of his daydream by the automated voice. He sat alone in the booth in the train carriage. Turning away from the window, he glanced around at the other passengers he shared the train carriage with; a handful were around his age, also carrying large bags. They must have been prospective students of Cricland Academy, just as he was.

Another girl in the carriage sat alone, while the others around her whispered excitedly to one another. Pushing a lock of her red hair behind her ear, she absentmindedly gazed out of the window. Damian looked away before anyone caught him staring at her.

When the train pulled into Ardepolis Station, Damian slung his bag over his shoulder and stepped onto the platform. The platform was crowded, to be expected of the capital city of Droengya. Damian pushed his way through the crowds to the station exit. He stopped to take in Ardepolis – skyscrapers cast long shadows over the streets, where residents rushed to and fro every day. He would have to take time to explore later, after he had settled in.

He noticed the teenagers from the train walking in a group away from the station. He followed them from a distance. He already knew where he was supposed to go, but he would attract less attention if he arrived in a group as opposed to on his own.

There was a sudden rush amongst the group, and one of them was shoved out of the way. She stumbled slightly; Damian recognised her as the red headed girl from the train. As the other students continued towards their destination, Damian stopped. The girl huffed to herself while gathering her belongings.

Damian picked up one of her bags, and held it out for her. “Are you alright?” He asked her.

She spun towards him with startled eyes. “Y-Yes, I’m fine, thank you…” she muttered. “I must have simply been too slow for them…”

After regaining her composure, the girl smiled briefly at him before continuing ahead, slightly faster than she had been before. Damian reasoned she must have been like him – not much of a talker, particularly to strangers.Prospective students of the academy had been asked to gather at the West Square of the city. From there, they would be collected and taken to the academy by airship. Quite a few students had gathered by the time Damian arrived at the West Square. They had already started mingling, excitedly chatting amongst themselves about what lay ahead of them for the school year. He saw the girl from earlier again, standing alone at a relatively empty part of the square. Damian found an equally empty area to stand and stare at his phone, scrolling absentmindedly; anything to take his attention away from the incessant noise around him.

A car came to a stop in front of the gathered crowd of students; it was a sleek white limousine, the reflective glare from the sun sparkling off the shining exterior. The driver exited his seat and opened the passenger door. A girl stepped out – she had black hair tied into ponytails with red ribbons, and she was wrapped in a fur coat. Someone else stepped out of the car: a boy of a similar age, with short black hair. A sword was attached to his belt.

There was an exhilarated buzz in the air of the square after the girl’s arrival. Damian recognised her – Morrigan Astarte, a young rockstar. He remembered seeing her on a poster once. Despite her age, she began her career in her early teens and became rather popular, specifically amongst other teenagers. She had recently announced that she was going to step back from her music career to focus on her new endeavours at Cricland Academy.

Morrigan watched as a somewhat older man took her luggage from the car and loaded it onto a baggage cart. Some students had worked up the nerve to speak to her. The boy with the sword stood at her side, not saying a word. He seemed overwhelmed by the number of people wanting to speak to Morrigan.

“You’re telling me the airship isn’t even here yet?” Morrigan asked loudly. “Completely ridiculous. Just how long are we going to be kept waiting?”

She continued talking, signing autographs for others as she did so. The boy with the sword turned to the man who seemed to work for Morrigan and whispered something. The man looked exhausted – Morrigan’s bags did look quite heavy.

Damian tried to tune out from the noise. He did agree with Morrigan to some extent – the sooner the airship arrived, the sooner the others could settle down. He checked the time; it was half past eleven.

The airship landed in the square at five minutes to twelve. Morrigan led the crowd into the aircraft, beckoning her two male companions to follow her. “We have to get the best seats. The view from up there must be amazing.” She said to the boy with the sword. She turned to the older man. “Come along now, Hector, and no grumbling – you don’t want to miss out on this amazing tip I’ve got for you, do you?”

The servant, apparently named Hector, muttered something before pushing the baggage cart onto the ship. Damian rolled his eyes as the three vanished from his sight. _What a spoiled princess,_ he thought of Morrigan.

He boarded the ship and took a seat next to the window. He silently hoped no one would sit next to him, but given the sheer number of people, that dream seemed unlikely.

He became aware of someone lingering nearby. Looking up, he saw the redheaded girl. She frowned, nervously fiddling with her gloves. “May I take this seat, please?” She asked, gesturing to the seat next to him. “Everywhere else is full…”

“Sure,” Damian shrugged. She sat next to him, and silence fell between them.

“Thank you for earlier,” the girl said next. “I should have said something at the time…”

“Don’t worry about it.” Damian told her.

“I’m Silla,” she introduced. “It’s nice to meet you.” Reluctantly, she held out her hand.

Damian quickly shook her hand. “Damian.”

After the ship took off, the two fell silent again. Silla concerned herself with watching the clouds pass by the window. Damian blocked out the chattering of the other students with his headphones.

Morrigan and her friend were seated at the front of the ship. Morrigan was filing her nails. “I’m already exhausted.” She complained. “So many people have bombarded me already. They better let us go to bed as soon as we get there – I didn’t get my twelve hours last night, and you know how much I need my twelve hours.”

Klimt Vortex turned to her. “It won’t even be that late when we get there, though. They might want to talk to us for a little bit. Besides, where would we even sleep if dorms aren’t going to be assigned until tomorrow?”

Morrigan looked up sharply. “They better not make us go camping or something. I’d never survive – my shoes aren’t made for it, I might ruin my clothes, I’d definitely break at least one nail…”

Klimt rolled his eyes as Morrigan continued ranting. She may have been his closest friend, but she was very high maintenance.

**\---**

The sun had begun to set when the ship descended on its destination. “Look at that, Klimt,” Morrigan said, nudging her friend. Klimt leaned over to look out the window, as were many of the other students on board.

Cricland Academy towered above them. The main building was large, with several spiral towers extending out from it. It was surrounded by extensive forestry. Even for Morrigan’s lofty standards, it was impressive.

The students began to pour out of the ship onto the school’s courtyard. Morrigan took Klimt’s hand and dragged him behind her as she left. Luggage was being removed from the ship, and Morrigan scanned the crowd for Hector. As a footman in service to her household, Hector had been asked by her father to assist with the transport of Morrigan’s and Klimt’s luggage. He was only supposed to accompany them to Ardepolis, but Morrigan had promised him a good tip if he extended his services after they had arrived at Cricland, despite Klimt’s protesting.

She finally saw him and approached. A man of his mid to late twenties, Hector was preoccupied with the unloading of her bags, and didn’t notice her approach. “How’s it going?” She asked him. She suppressed the urge to laugh at how he flinched at her voice.

He turned to her, bowing slightly. “Almost finished, milady.” He replied.

“See? Wasn’t it a good idea for you to come along and help us?” She asked. “If you hadn’t, no one would have been here to help me. What else was I supposed to do – lug all of this to my room by myself? I’m not strong enough for that.”

Klimt tugged on her sleeve. “We should go,” he said. “The headmaster is giving an introductory speech in the auditorium in ten minutes.”

Morrigan opened her purse and pulled a few notes out of it, holding them out to Hector. “Here’s that tip I promised you.” She said. “See you later!” She waved over her shoulder at the servant before he eventually faded from sight.

The crowd of students filtered into the circular auditorium. The room was covered in an orange light from the sunset filtering in through the glass dome ceiling. They all stood facing the stage, waiting for the headmaster to arrive. Morrigan held on to Klimt’s sleeve to prevent losing him in the overcrowded hall.

On the other side of the hall, Silla found a space to stand closer to the front near the stage. The noise of the students speaking amongst themselves was overwhelming. She hoped the headmaster’s speech wouldn’t take so long – she hated being pressed up against other people so closely as she was. It seemed awkward standing alone when everyone else had made at least some friends by now; the only person she knew so far was Damian, and even then, they had hardly spoken. She didn't want to bother him more than was necessary.

A door in the corner of the room opened, and a man stepped into the room. Slowly, he walked to the stage and climbed the steps. The gathered students watched him in silence. He approached the podium that stood on the stage. He looked young for a school headmaster; one might picture an older man, but he seemed to be in his thirties.

He tapped on the microphone a few times, the feedback ringing throughout the room. He smiled before addressing the students gathered in front of him. “Greetings,” he began. “Welcome to Cricland Academy. As some of you may know, my name is Amoveus Izolin, and I am the headmaster here. I would like to congratulate all of you on reaching this next stage of your journey. The fact that you stand before me here proves that you are worthy of attending my school.

“For the next five years, all of you will undergo intensive training, and by the time you graduate, you will be thoroughly prepared to begin your careers as professional Hunters. This is not a responsibility one should take lightly. The job of a Hunter is dangerous, treacherous, and even fatal. It will be your responsibility to protect the people of Tiallarynn with your very lives. Any mistakes could result in not only your own death, but that of the innocents you must defend.”

A solemn attitude had fallen over the students at Amoveus’ words. Some students stared back at him with wide and uncertain eyes.

Amoveus smiled. “Hopefully, with our coaching backed up by our own experiences, that won’t happen. Induction begins tomorrow – you will be assigned your teams after participating in the induction mission. You will receive more information tomorrow. For now, I advise you all rest. As dorms have yet to be assigned, you will have to make do with the dining hall; think of it as a fun slumber party to get to know your peers. I will see you all tomorrow for your allocated induction slots.”

Amoveus stepped back from the podium and left the stage, exiting through the door he entered the room with. Excited and anxious whispers rose from several students – some were clearly still shaken by the headmaster’s straightforward words.

“He’s a weird one,” Morrigan said to Klimt. “Talking about how we might die and stuff while doing this… Doesn’t he have any faith in us at all? He did say we were the best.”

“He was just warning us. He isn’t exactly incorrect.” Klimt responded. “You’re not doubting this now, are you…?”

“Of course not!” Morrigan rebutted. “I knew what I was getting into when I came here; we’ll both be fine. But he’s right in that we should get some sleep. I could sleep like a baby right now…”

The students made their way to the dining hall. The tables and chairs had been stacked up against the wall in order to make room for the students to settle down and sleep. Damian chose a somewhat empty corner of the room and sat up against the wall, peering down at his phone to avoid looking at anyone. He was silently fuming over the sleeping arrangements – how could the school seriously think this was okay? Damian had never felt so humiliated in his life. He was far too old to be sharing a room.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a duo approaching him. He already recognised the hushed and whispering male voice and suppressed the urge to groan. Morrigan towered over him, wearing a nightdress. Her black hair, released from the ponytails, now reached her forearms. “Hi!” She greeted him with a smile.

Damian raised an eyebrow. “What do you want?” He demanded.

“Oh, so prickly!” Morrigan giggled with a smile. “You look so out of place, sulking in this corner on your own. I came over to introduce myself, but thinking about it, surely you don’t need me to tell you who I am. So I just wanted to know your name!”

Damian sighed; it wouldn’t hurt, if it convinced her to leave him alone. “Damian.” He told her. “And can you keep it down? Some people are actually trying to sleep.”  
“He’s right.” Klimt muttered to Morrigan. “We should get some sleep, too. What happened to getting your twelve hours?”

Morrigan rolled her eyes at him. “Okay, okay, let’s go to bed. See you tomorrow, Damian!” Morrigan waved before allowing herself to be dragged to bed.

Damian sincerely hoped that they would not, in fact, meet tomorrow. He went to switch off his phone, but his finger lingered over the power button. Should he send a message to his father, if only to let him know he had arrived at Cricland?

He decided against it. His father would probably be too busy to look at his phone anyway.

Switching off his phone, Damian settled down and closed his eyes. He dreaded the team induction – what was he going to do if he found himself stuck with an insufferable team for the next five years? He couldn’t let anyone hold him back.

He tried to push such thoughts out of his mind; that was a problem for tomorrow. Tuning out the other whispers around the dining hall, Damian eventually drifted off to sleep.


	3. Misery Acquaints a Man with Strange Bedfellows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The students set off on their induction mission, and things quickly go south in more ways than one...

The next morning, the dining hall was properly assembled for breakfast. Damian was glad that they would have dorm rooms after induction, but he would also then be a part of a team. He wasn’t much of a team player; he could at least admit that to himself.

He hadn’t even sat down for breakfast when Morrigan found him. He was tying his long, sandy brown hair into the usual bun when he saw her approaching. “Good morning!” She greeted him, beaming. “What a coincidence to run into you again after our chat last night, Damie!”

“Hardly a coincidence,” Damian scoffed. “I’ve seen you following me around.”

“Who, me? Follow? Never.” Morrigan grinned. “Pure coincidence. Speaking of last night, I never introduced you to Klimt, did I?” She nudged her black-haired friend closer. “This is Klimt, my best friend! We met when we both enrolled at Edalore before coming here. Klimt, this is Damian. You remember him from last night, right?”

Klimt nodded. “Nice to meet you.” He said. Damian nodded back to him; he seemed sensible compared to his energetic friend.

“Oh! We’ve also made a new friend! You should meet her too.” Morrigan announced, gesturing to the new friend in question. To Damian’s surprise, he was looking at Silla. A similar recognition was reflected in her eyes when she saw him.

“Oh… Hello again.” Silla greeted him. Damian nodded back to her.

“You two already know each other? Great!” Morrigan cheered. “Oh, but I’m starving. Let’s grab breakfast and sit down.”

The four found themselves sitting together, thanks to Morrigan’s insistence. Damian saw a lot of other students glaring at them, likely for taking their desired place next to the young celebrity. Some whispers emerged; Damian couldn’t have cared less, but Silla unhappily hunched her shoulders as she looked away from them.

“I’m so excited for induction.” Morrigan was saying in between her bites of an apple. “I hope I’m teamed up with good people.” She turned to Klimt. “Hey, we should make absolutely sure that we’re on a team together.”

“How exactly would we do that?” Klimt asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, we’ll have to hear the rules of the induction mission first. But for now, let’s settle on just staying together until we complete the mission.” Morrigan replied. “There’s no getting around it; we have to be on the same team.”

“You know being on different teams doesn’t mean you can’t still see each other, right?” Damian told her, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes.

“But that wouldn’t do at all!” Morrigan insisted. “Klimt and I have been each other’s best friends for years. We’ve spent practically every day with each other since then. We can’t be split up now! No, we absolutely must be on the same team.”

“You’ve really been friends for so long?” Silla asked. “And you’re still looking out for each other… That’s so sweet. I’m a little envious of such a strong friendship.”

“Klimt would never be able to manage without me.” Morrigan smirked. “I’m the one looking after him. He’s basically part of the family, but he gets embarrassed when I say that.”

“I don’t mind it when you put it like that,” Klimt rebutted. “It gets embarrassing when you introduce me to people as your brother, even though I’m not…”

“You could technically still be my brother, you know.” Morrigan said to him. “There’s nothing wrong with being adopted. I wouldn’t mind having a third brother – don’t I already treat you like one?”

Klimt turned away, focusing on the food in front of him, while Silla giggled at their antics. Damian wanted to burst his own ear drums – he hated small talk.

Students were taken to their induction in small groups at different times. It was almost midday before Damian was called to the auditorium. He didn’t recognise a lot of the other students, which was no surprise considering how he had managed to avoid a lot of people so far. He saw Silla hiding amongst the number. He also noticed Klimt, at which his stomach sunk – if Klimt was there, Morrigan was likely not too far behind. Everyone had brought their weapons with them.

The students were gathered around an individual with short pink hair. “Good morning to you, ” they greeted. “My name is Fenmore Raegan, and I am the assistant headmaster here at Cricland. It is my responsibility to take you to your induction mission this morning. If you would like to follow me…”

They turned and began walking away, and the group eagerly followed after them. The air around them was filled with feverish chatter. The group was taken through the main doors of the school and through the courtyard. They left school grounds through the main gate and entered a plain field.

Traversing through the field, they stood atop a cliffside, which overlooked a large dense forest. The leaves on the trees of the forest were various shades of red. At the edge of the cliff, peering over the edge with his back to the newly arrived students, stood Amoveus.

Fenmore cleared their throat, and Amoveus turned, a faint smile on his lips. “Hello again.” He greeted the group. “I suppose you’re all eager to hear about your induction mission. Then I’ll waste no time and get straight to the point. Your mission takes place there, down in the Crimson Forest.” He pointed to the trees below him. “You will take your place on those platforms, which will launch you into the forest below.” He gestured to some metallic platforms next to where the students had gathered.

“After you land in the forest, you must make your way to the Cascade Ruins that sit in the centre,” Fenmore explained. “A collection of small statues have been placed there; you must take one, and make your way back to this cliff. Returning with one of those statues stands as proof that you have successfully completed your mission.”

“So I highly advise you not to lose those statues.” Amoveus warned. “As you have likely expected, you won’t be alone down there - the Nephile activity in the Crimson Forest is particularly high at this time of year. You must eliminate any you come across, or you will die. No one has died during an induction, although I suppose becoming the first would still be quite the achievement…”

The energy surrounding the students changed. Excitement and eagerness turned into anxiety and fear. Fenmore was clearly quite used to the headmaster’s macabre sense of humour, responding only with a sigh. “Are there any questions surrounding this task?”

The group was silent. Acknowledging the silence, Fenmore nodded. “Very well. Please take your place on a platform.”

Damian stepped on the platform closest to him. He adjusted his eye piece, ensuring everything in his arsenal was working as it should - a fault in the middle of his descent into the forest would, in simple terms, suck.

Klimt chose a platform next to Morrigan, who was busy cleaning her sunglasses before placing them back on the bridge of her nose. He leaned over to her. “If we’re really planning to stay together, then don’t wander off on your own, okay? You can’t get into trouble before school even properly starts…”

Morrigan turned to him, mouth open in shock. “You make me sound inexperienced and stupid. Of course I’ll stay out of trouble - this is me we’re talking about. I’ll crush anything that tries to get in my way. I’ll even save you if I have to.”

“Is everybody ready?” Fenmore called out, snapping the students’ attention away from their own affairs. They held a tablet in their hand, their finger hovering over a part of the screen. 

Grinning, Morrigan pulled her guitar from her back. Klimt drew his sword and held it out in front of him. The rest of the students prepared themselves and their weapons.

Amoveus gave an approving nod in Fenmore’s direction, and the assistant headteacher pressed their finger against their tablet. The platforms sprung up, launching the students stood upon them into the air.

Amoveus stood and watched them descend. Fenmore stood beside him, tapping on the tablet screen as footage displaying several angles of the forest was pulled up. “Might I suggest, sir, that we try not to frighten the students out of their minds before launching them into a deadly mission?” They said. “I shan’t be surprised if we see a fall in admission rates next year.”

Amoveus chuckled. “Do lighten up, Fenmore. I know they can handle it. They’ve made the decision to put their lives on the line in this manner, after all. Besides, if one does not have a sense of humour, they will snap under the pressure when tragedy does strike.”

**\---**

Clutching her rod close to her chest, Silla stepped gingerly through the forest.

She wasn’t really made for fighting - she knew that better than anyone. She felt almost unsuitable for this school, especially after seeing what frighteningly dangerous weapons the other students used. She was quite weak for her age, both physically and mentally - she hadn’t undergone much physical training, and she hated conflict of any kind.  
She had been under the tutelage of her brother for some years, of course, but she knew she would never reach his level. He, and seemingly everyone else she had met so far, were far stronger than her, who preferred to stay as far as possible from danger.

But a Hunter’s job was to help people, and Silla knew she could at least do that. At least, she knew she could in theory, but wandering alone in a forest teeming with monsters of darkness had taught her that perhaps she wasn’t quite ready for putting such an ideology into practice.

A flash of darkness above her made her stop, a gasp escaping her lips. A shape resembling a bird was perched in a tree above her, peering into a hole in the bark. It stepped inside the hole; Silla waited for a few moments for if it would reemerge. When it did not, she sighed, feeling her heart beating harshly against her chest. She quickly moved on, leaving the tree and the creature inside it behind. It may have been a normal bird, she reminded herself - it might not have been a Nephile.

While walking, she focused on her breathing, urging herself to calm down and relax. Her brother’s words echoed in her head: _“Nephiles are attracted to fear, and repulsed by courage - remain calm, and be brave, and they will not harm you.”_

Although she considered such a thing easier said than done.

She saw another creature up ahead. She ducked behind a tree, peering out to look at it. It resembled a large cat; its fur was dark, with patches of purple skin exposed in various places. It had large ears. It was leaning over a rabbit, tearing off and chewing meat, its teeth stained with blood. Silla’s stomach turned at the sight.

She struggled to remember the name of such a Nephile while watching it tear apart the poor rabbit. She shut her eyes and concentrated. It was a Bonvue, she remembered; Bonvues had enhanced hearing due to their large ears, and sharp claws and teeth for hunting. Of course she came across such a terrifying Nephile whilst alone.

“Morrigan?” A voice called nearby, snapping Silla out of her thoughts. The Bonvue looked up sharply from its meal. A growl escaped from it as it arched his back, preparing to pounce.

Klimt stepped into the clearing, sword in hand. His eyes widened as the Bonvue pounced on him, roaring. He brought his sword up to block its claws, but was pushed down to the ground, the Bonvue towering over him. Klimt yelled as the Bonvue sunk its teeth into his shoulder.

Snapping out of her frozen state, Silla rushed forward, inserting a red stone into her rod and pointing it at the creature. Fire shot out of it, bursting into the Bonvue’s side. Screeching, the creature jumped off of Klimt and observed the two, back arched and growling.

“Are you alright?” Silla asked, glancing at Klimt. The bite had left tooth shaped rips in his shirt, but he was not bleeding.

“I’m fine.” Klimt responded. He held his blade in front of him, pointing it at the Nephile. “You should get out of here, before you get hurt. I’ll hold it off.”

“I-I’m not leaving you…!” Silla exclaimed. “Let me help, please…!”

Before Klimt could argue back, the Bonvue pounced again. Klimt jumped to the ground, rolling out of its path, and stabbed his sword into its side. The Bonvue roared and swung its claws into Klimt’s arm. Klimt grunted, driving his foot into the Bonvue’s stomach, kicking it away.

Silla rustled through her bag, looking for one Gemstone in particular. The Bonvue noticed her distraction and thundered towards her. She pulled a yellow Gemstone from her bag, slotted it into her rod, and pointed it towards her approaching foe. 

A jolt of electricity shot out from the stone, catching the Bonvue in the chest. The Bonvue collapsed to the ground before her, the electric current paralysing its joints. Klimt leaped forward and swung his sword into its neck, separating the Bonvue’s head from its body. Both head and body soon began evaporating into black smoke, swirling into the sky.

Panting, Klimt rose to his feet, clutching his arm. “Are you alright?” He asked, turning towards her. Silla couldn’t find her voice; all she could do in response was nod.  
Now that the danger had passed, an awkward silence hung in the air. The two had been introduced through Morrigan, and even then Morrigan had done most of the talking; they had simply smiled and nodded along. They had had little interaction with each other.

“Uh… Thanks. For saving me.” Klimt said, fidgeting uncomfortably. “I would have been in trouble if you hadn’t been there.”

“I-I didn’t really do anything…” Silla stuttered. “You did all of the work. Are you hurt? I can heal you…”

Klimt shook his head. Silence again. “Do you… want to carry on to the ruins together?” He asked. “So neither of us would be alone again if we come across another Nephile…?”

Silla nodded, and followed after Klimt as he led the way along the path. She found that her previous fear had been allayed somewhat, now that she was no longer travelling alone. Now she could try to be more brave, just like her brother advised.

**\---**

Shooting yet another Nephile out of the sky, Damian was left wondering what part of this mission was supposed to be a challenge.

He had encountered a handful of other students during his own journey, and had avoided them all by hiding when necessary. He had barely found any Nephiles, either - only a few Gretaisks, which were easy enough to handle given their small size. He accidentally roused the owl-like creatures from their sleep, he shot them down, rinse and repeat. The whole affair was actually starting to get rather boring; he just wanted to find a statue and return to the cliff.

Shapes to his right caught his attention. A herd of Adharcs were gathered together, grazing on the grass. Damian backed away from them as quietly as he could - the deer-like Nephiles were extremely territorial, and he didn’t want to start a fight that was completely unnecessary. He managed to leave them without disturbing them.

He encountered another herd a short while later. One Adharc was surrounded by a number of Adharc fawns - some were trying and failing to stand up. Damian was about to leave them be, stopping when he noticed a person peering out from behind a tree on the other side of the clearing. She spotted him at the same time.

_“Damie!”_ Morrigan mouthed, grinning wildly.

Damian was about to throw his arms up in exasperation, but stopped himself lest he attracted the Nephile’s attention. _“What are you doing?”_ He mouthed back, eyes narrowing.

Morrigan pointed to the fawns, pouting out her lips and cupping her hands to her cheeks. Damian could only watch as she pulled out her phone and took pictures of them. She moved to get a better angle, slowly emerging from her hiding spot.

A resonant _snap_ echoed through the area. Morrigan’s grin fell, feeling too late the remnants of the twig beneath her boot.

The adult Adharc looked in her direction, the fawns rushing closer to their parent. Morrigan stared, wide eyed and with a nervous grin, as the Adharc regarded her with suspicious eyes.

Damian sighed, activating his weapon. The sleek metallic backpack on his back opened, and swords flew out, circling him. He threw his arm out, and two swords flung themselves towards the Adharc. The Nephile screeched as the swords ripped into its skin; the fawns chattered and trembled with fear.

Morrigan jumped out of her hiding place, arms reaching out to grab Damian. “Damie, stop!” She yelled. “What are you doing?!”

She grabbed one of his arms, but he easily shook her off. “Cleaning up your mess!” He yelled back. “Now stop trying to grab me and do something about that Adharc!”

He was about to issue another mental command to his swords, but his arm was stopped again by Morrigan grabbing it. Before he could throw her off, his other arm was restrained by another Morrigan. Damian was too confused to fight back, staring back and forth between the two.

Another Morrigan materialised into his view; she grabbed his collar and dragged him away from the Adharcs. A fourth Morrigan helped the other two with restraining him, and eventually the Nephile and its children faded from his sight.

Eventually, the Morrigans released Damian. His eyes darted between all four of them as they glared at him. They all looked exactly the same, aside from the colour of their hair ribbons. “What…?” He whispered.

The Morrigan with the red ribbons sighed. “I’m lucky that my Essence is what it is.” She snapped her fingers, and the other three Morrigans vanished. “Now, Damie, what got into you back there? Why did you-”

“What got into me?!” Damian scoffed. “I’m not the one who nearly got herself killed by trying to take photos of Adharc fawns! Why did you drag me away from that?! I was trying to save you before that thing killed you! Why didn’t you help me?!”

“I-It had babies!” Morrigan exclaimed. “Even if my life was in danger, I couldn’t have killed it right in front of its babies…!”

Damian sneered, rolling his eyes. “That thing wouldn’t have cared about you in the same way. Nephiles don’t care who you are - they will rip you apart if you let them. All they do is kill and hurt people. You can’t afford to be soft and empathise with them - what if you let one go, and it kills an entire village? That’s on you. That would be your fault. If you can’t put your little feelings aside for the greater good… you really aren’t cut out for being a Hunter.”

His speech concluded, Damian shoved past Morrigan and walked away. Morrigan was frozen to the spot, staring at the toes of her boots. Her eyes stung, her chest felt heavy and her throat hurt.

But worse than that, as she gritted her teeth and clenched her fists, her pride felt bruised. How could he have spoken to her in that way? The blatant disrespect left her speechless. She saved his life - admittedly from trouble she got them into, but such details were unimportant - and he had the gall to say such things as she was unprepared for being a Hunter?

Huffing, Morrigan followed after him, hoping the path would take her to the Cascade Ruins soon. She wanted to give Damian a piece of her mind whenever she saw him next, and prove to him that she was capable, no matter what he thought.

**\---**

Emerging from the trees, Damian saw a clearing ahead of him. Sat in the centre of that clearing were the remnants of a large circular building - bricks were scattered around the entrance. Aside from the few gaps in the outer architecture, as well as the claw marks engraved into the bricks, the building was still standing and in decent condition. Damian saw no other alternative - this had to be his objective.

He entered the building, taking his phone from his pocket and switching on its flashlight. He wandered through the first hall, casting the light onto the walls. Various drawings and tapestries were sketched into the walls, all seemingly displaying different stories. One figure, an individual drawn in blue, appeared to feature in every tapestry.

Following the path straight through the main hall, Damian entered the room at the end of the hall. He heard flowing water, and noticed small waterfalls pouring into the room and forming a moat around the middle of the room. The large room was even darker than the hall had been; there were no windows, and the only other light was the reflection of water on the ceiling.

Twelve podiums sat in the centre of the room. Ten of the twelve had small statues sat upon them; two students had already claimed their statues and were presumably making their way back to Headmaster Izolin, or were even already there.

Hearing footsteps behind him, Damian turned. The light from his phone flashed onto the two approaching figures: Klimt and Silla. “Um… Hello.” Klimt greeted. “Have you seen-”

“No, I haven’t seen Morrigan.” Damian snapped, turning towards the podiums. He approached the nearest podium and snatched the statue from it, stuffing the small figurine into his pocket. He turned to leave when a familiar figure standing behind the other two made him stop.

“Oh! Hey, guys!” Morrigan exclaimed. “What a coincidence that all of us got here at the same time!”

Klimt smiled upon seeing his friend, immediately relaxing. “At least we got here in one piece.” He sighed. “We shouldn’t linger here for too long. Let’s grab a statue.”

The three approached a podium and swiped the statue from them. Damian watched Morrigan in particular - she was smiling while muttering something to Silla. She seemed no different after their confrontation earlier, as though she hadn’t listened to his advice at all. She could have been hiding how she felt, he supposed, but he couldn’t think why she would do that - if he were in her position, he would have quickly proven his opponent wrong.

Morrigan, Silla and Klimt had hopped off the centre platform and were about to depart when a raised hand from Klimt stopped them. His eyes darted around the room, as though searching for something.

“Klimt?” Morrigan said, tilting her head. “What’s wrong? Oh, can you hear something?”

“I can… feel something.” Klimt responded. “There’s something in here - and it’s moving.”

Damian shone his flashlight around the room. Morrigan glanced around the room, squinting into the darkness. A pebble fell and clattered near her feet, drawing a startled cry from her. All four glanced up to where the pebble fell from.

A ginormous shadow hung from the ceiling; due to the darkness in the room, it was impossible to see any clear features. The only thing that the four could see were the pair of narrowed yellow eyes staring directly down at them.

A nervous laugh escaped from Morrigan. "Wh-What is that? What do we do?"

"Get out. Now." Damian ordered. Turning his flashlight off, he began backing out of the room. "And stop freaking out - you'll appear vulnerable."

At Damian's instruction, the other three followed him out of the temple. When they reached the main hall of the abandoned building, the walls around them began to tremble. "Hurry it up!" Damian yelled to them.

The doors behind them were thrown off their hinges as the creature burst through them, a deafening shriek accompanying it. The four covered their ears with their hands as they ran out of the building, stumbling into the light of the day. The creature followed suit, knocking the four off their feet and destroying the entrance of the temple. It crashed into a clump of trees.

Damian rose to his feet first, and in the light could now see the monster for what it was. Its feet were small compared to the rest of its body, which was covered in dark blue fur. Its wings were covered in black skin, and it had large ears protruding out of its head. Its eyes were now closed as it moved, trying to reorient itself.

"It's a Soinua." He told the others. "We don't have a chance of beating it - let's escape while it's confused."

Morrigan grinned, pressing a button on the head of her guitar. Sharp blades shot out of either side its body, and she flipped it to hold it by its neck. "Or we could take it out while it doesn't have a chance of fighting back!" She exclaimed, before charging forward and raising her guitar, jumping up and swinging a blade onto the Soinua's stomach.

The Nephile screeched and flapped its wings, creating a strong gust of wind. Morrigan was thrown away by the wind, landing on her back on the ground, her guitar clattering beside her. The Soinua took off into the air, using a foot to grab Morrigan before lifting itself into the sky and flying away.

"Morrigan!" Klimt shouted, feebly reaching out for his endangered friend. He ran after the Nephile, chasing it further into the woods and vanishing from sight.

"Oh, for the love of…" Damian grumbled. He turned to walk away; he just wanted to present his statue to Headmaster Izolin and be done with it. He had tried to warn Morrigan, after all - she had gotten herself into this mess.

"You aren't… going to help us save Morrigan?"

Silla's confused voice made him stop. He already had an uncomfortable pit in his stomach; her betrayed tone made it feel worse. "I tried to warn her, and she didn't listen to me." Damian said over his shoulder. "This is on her."

"I don't know if I agree," Silla replied, her voice trembling. "If someone's in danger, and you do nothing to stop it… That's your fault. Don't you think so…?"

Damian felt a wave of deja vu, and he groaned. He had said almost exactly the same thing to Morrigan not too long before, and now here he was going back on what he said like a hypocrite. Not that he was entirely comfortable with leaving her before, but he thought she could do with learning a lesson. Although she won't learn anything if the Soinua killed her.

He sighed and turned around, running after Klimt. "We'd better hurry up." He told the redhead next to him. Silla, smiling to herself, nodded and followed him.

They followed the sound of gunfire and found Klimt standing at the head of a long stone bridge that stretched out over a deep chasm. The Soinua was circling high above the bridge, regarding the group with annoyed eyes whenever it saw them. Morrigan, still clutched in one of its feet, was stiff and pale, but still alive and conscious.

Klimt gripped his katana in one hand and Morrigan's guitar into the other. "My own projectiles won't do anything to it…" He muttered. "Not a Nephile of that size. But if we shoot it, it'll drop her… What do we do?" His voice sounded strangled, as though he were in pain.

"The teachers must be watching. They should be on their way if they've noticed Morrigan's in danger, right?" Silla asked. "They'd never let us actually die, surely…?"

"I doubt they'll save us - it'd defeat the point." Damian turned to Klimt, gesturing towards Morrigan's guitar. "Is that a gun, too?"

Klimt glanced at Damian before turning back to the Soinua. "Uh, yeah… A shotgun, if you press a button on its head…"

"Good." Damian nodded. "Then shoot it. I'll catch her." At Klimt's exasperated expression, Damian rolled his eyes. "Just trust me and shoot it."

Sighing, Klimt pressed a button on the guitar, and a muzzle popped out of the guitar's head. Loading a bullet into the gun, he hoisted it onto his shoulder and aimed at the Soinua's head. He waited for it to fly closer before pulling the trigger; the bullets soared through the air and exploded upon contact. The Nephile screamed and writhed in the air, its grip on Morrigan relaxing. She slipped out of its foot and she fell down into the chasm below them.

Silla squealed, her hands flying to her mouth. Damian shot forward and jumped into the chasm, aiming two of his swords behind him and firing energy beams out of them to propel him forwards. He flew down towards Morrigan, reaching out to grab her before repositioning himself and flying back towards the forest.

He landed next to Klimt and Silla and released Morrigan, settling her back on her feet. Klimt rushed to her side, helping to right her when she wobbled. Silla inserted a green Gemstone into her staff and held it against Morrigan's arm, the energy from the stone flowing and covering Morrigan's body. "This should help with your shock." Silla informed her.

Morrigan's trembling quickly stopped, and her skin flushed with its previous colour. She let out a long breath. "That's better… Thanks."

"No time to rest. Help me get this thing off our backs, will you? And no playing around his time." Damian said to her. He took off into the air again and flew towards the Soinua. Preparing one of his swords, he dragged it beside him as he flew alongside the Soinua's wing. The Nephile shrieked as it collapsed onto the bridge, unable to keep itself airborne with just one wing.

Morrigan took her guitar from Klimt and loaded new bullets into it. "This is for kidnapping me, you overgrown bloodsucker!" She exclaimed before firing. The Soinua began writhing and swung its remaining wing towards Damian, who was still hovering next to it.

Silla switched the green Gemstone for a yellow stone and pointed it towards the Nephile. The resulting electric shock struck the Soinua and halted its movement. Glancing between its severed wing and remaining wing, the Soinua let out a strangled screech.

Damian landed next to the other three, running past them. "Come on!" He yelled to them. "Let's get out of here while it can't fight back!"

The four ran as fast as their legs would take them, leaving the abyss behind. They eventually came to a stop as their legs and lungs burned and allowed themselves a few moments of rest.

Damian stumbled backwards after being accosted by Morrigan's arms wrapping around his neck. "You saved me, Damie!" She exclaimed, an obvious grin in her voice. "If it weren't for you, it'd be me that had been smooshed at the bottom of this huge pit! I even forgive you for all the horrible things you said to me earlier!"

"Horrible things?" Klimt repeated, his voice laced with concern. "What horrible things?"

Damian shrugged her off. "It doesn't matter. Just don't expect me to do that again. Let's get out of here before that thing decides to come back for us."

**\---**

The students were gathered in the auditorium after everyone had returned from their missions. Damian, Silla, Morrigan and Klimt were all called up to the stage and stood before the headmaster.

"Damian Archambault, Silla Thabine, Morrigan Astarte, and Klimt Vortex." Amoveus addressed them. "The four of you displayed exemplary teamwork during your mission and escaped from a highly dangerous Nephile while keeping not only your statues, but your lives. You compliment each other well, and can work individually as well as in a team. For these reasons, the four of you will be a team for the rest of your time at Cricland."

Morrigan grinned and linked her right arm with Klimt's arm, and her left in Damian's, and pulled them close into a hug - Klimt smiled in reciprocation, while Damian had to resist the urge to break himself out. Silla was too busy hiding herself from the crowd to really take notice of her new teammates' antics.

After all the gathered students were assigned into their teams, the students were dismissed for the night. The team walked to their new dorm for some well deserved rest.  
The door opened into a small living area; two couches sat facing a television, and a coffee table sat in between them. A small kitchen area was situated in the corner. Four doors on the other side of the room presumably led into their bedrooms.

Morrigan threw open the door to her room and glanced around. Her shoulders sagged. "They're quite… small, aren't they?" She said. "I've never had a single bed before… but at least we get our own bathrooms! And look - they even brought our luggage up for us! How nice!"

Klimt stared at the large pile that made up Morrigan's luggage. "Poor Hector," he muttered, thinking back to the footman Morrigan had essentially bribed. "Carrying all of this up here must have been quite a chore for him. I knew I should have stayed behind to help."

"Oh, I'm sure he was fine." Morrigan reassured him. "That's what the elevator is for! Oh, I should call home…"

While Morrigan busied herself with grabbing her phone, Damian was unpacking his own bags. The majority of his luggage consisted of clothes, including the Cricland uniform - he didn't have much in the way of other possessions. His hand froze over one object in particular; it was a photograph of his sister, from a few years before. He lifted the frame out of his bag and placed it on the windowsill. 

He probably should have left it at home, but he just couldn't bring himself to.

As the sun set on the school, most students were making their way to the dining hall for their evening meal. Morrigan stopped her teammates from following suit, claiming that a simple dining hall meal after their extraordinary day would be 'too boring'.

"So… what do you suggest?" Silla asked.

"Duh! We should get a pizza!" Morrigan announced. "All good things are celebrated with good food. It'll even be my treat - Papa gave me some coupons before I left for this exact purpose."

"And what exactly are we celebrating?" Damian questioned from his place on the couch, absentmindedly scrolling on his phone. 

"The formation of our team, obviously!" Morrigan huffed. "For the next couple of years, we're going to be friends, and we should celebrate that! So, what do you say?"

Klimt and Silla agreed to the plan, if only because they didn't want to upset Morrigan. Damian sighed. "Sure, if it'll make you that happy."

Grinning, Morrigan began dialling a number. Damian turned his attention back to his phone, once again realising that this was his team, and there was nothing he could do about it.

The next five years were going to feel like an eternity.


	4. Ardepolis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian, Morrigan, Silla and Klimt set out for a day in the capital city of Droengya, Ardepolis, but tensions between Damian and Morrigan once again interferes with the team dynamic...

"Goooooood morning!"

Damian groaned as the shrill voice pierced through his slumber, followed by incessant knocking on his bedroom door. He climbed out of bed and swung the door open just enough to peer through the gap. Morrigan stood on the other side, grinning.

"What?" Damian grumbled.

"It's our first day as a team. We should do something." Morrigan said. "You know, see the sights of the city. It'll be fun!"

"It's just gone eight. Why are you even awake this early just for that?"

"I'm not, really. I was sent to get you."

It was then that Damian noticed her hair ribbons; they were blue, a sharp contrast to the usual red. He understood it then - this was just one of Morrigan's copies that she had sent to annoy him. "You're doing this to Klimt and Silla, then?" Damian asked.

"Of course," 'Morrigan' nodded. "Now hurry up and get dressed, before we miss breakfast!"

Damian sighed and closed the door, his head already throbbing with a dull headache. After preparing himself for the day ahead, he stepped out of his room and into the common area, where Silla was sat. "Good morning." She greeted him, significantly quieter than Morrigan, which he was thankful for.

Damian nodded back to her. "Morrigan wants to drag us out, to 'spend time as a team' or whatever. Has she told you anything I don't know?"

Silla shook her head. "No… But she did seem very excited. I don't want to say no to her when she seems so happy…"

Klimt entered the room, followed by his more animated counterpart. "Great! We're all ready. Let's-" She stopped as her gaze fell on Damian; specifically, on the sleek backpack containing his swords he was carrying, and the eyepiece that corresponded with it. "It's just a trip into town, Damie. You don't have to go armed."

Damian shrugged. "I'm taking it. Just in case. Let's just go."

Damian turned to leave the room, and Morrigan shrugged to the other two. The four walked down to the dining hall, which only had a handful of students milling about.

"Hey, did you guys check your phones this morning?" Morrigan asked as they ate. "We've had our class schedules sent over to us! Do you think we'll be in the same classes together?"

"Obviously," Damian replied. "All teams are in their classes together. They wouldn't split us up."

Morrigan responded by sticking her tongue out at him. They dug their phones out of their pockets and compared schedules.

"Okay, first off, we'll have Vitality and Essence Usage with Professor Granger." Morrigan said, frowning. "What, we have to do this unit again? I already passed it with top marks back in Edalore. Remember, Klimt?"

"I'm sure it's just for our own benefit." Silla cut in to reassure Morrigan before she got too agitated. "It's always a good idea to have those things fresh in your mind. You'd be in trouble if you forgot them…"

Morrigan shrugged, conceding, before continuing. "Then, after that, we have History with Professor Sato. History sounds pretty boring."

"I suppose it's a good idea to at least know important things that have happened in the past." Klimt told her. "It's all about learning from past mistakes, right?"

Her eyes still scanning her screen, Morrigan gasped and broke out into a smile. "Ooh! Then, after that, we have Physical Combat! Now that sounds more exciting!"

Damian glanced at his schedule, at the slot named 'Physical Combat'. The unit was to be taught by a Professor Thabine.

Damian raised his eyes to look at Silla. "A family member of yours?" He asked.

Silla frowned, seemingly confused, so Damian pointed at the same name on her own schedule. "Oh," she gasped. "Um… yes. That's my brother."

"Your brother is one of our professors?!" Morrigan exclaimed. She quickly broke out of her shock and grinned. "That means he'll go easier on us, right? He won't give us homework, he won't yell at us for being late-"

"I don't think so," Silla interrupted, smiling despite herself. "I think it's still a good idea to behave like you would with the other professors. He can be quite tough on others."

Morrigan groaned and laid her head on top of her arms, which were crossed and resting on the table. "At least we get a free day before classes." She mumbled. "Which is why we should head into the city today! We'll need to know where everything is."

After finishing their breakfasts, the four left the dining hall and headed towards the large gates that led towards the bustling city. They passed many other students gathered on the grass in front of the school, enjoying the pleasant sun above them.

They soon entered the city of Ardepolis, which was as busy as it had been when they first arrived only a few days ago. "So where should we go first?" Morrigan asked. "Clothes shopping? The park? Obviously we won't get to everything today, since there's just so much-"

"Do you ever stop talking?" Damian cut in with a sigh. "Or are we just not supposed to be able to get a word in edgeways?"

Morrigan huffed and rolled her eyes, but otherwise ignored him. She led them through the streets of the city, pointing out every store and landmark of Ardepolis, while the other three mainly remained silent and listened. 

At midday, Morrigan halted her tour of the city in favour of finding somewhere to eat. Damian dragged her into a nearby café before she could take them to some expensive establishment. 

"So where are you guys from?" Morrigan asked once they had chosen a table. "You're obviously not from around here, Silla, that much I can already tell. What about you, Damie?"

"Ustrad." Damian replied simply.

"Ooh, I've been to Ustrad a few times," Morrigan said. "For concerts and things. My dad and brother work there, too. They're both in the military. What about you, Silla? If I had to take a guess… you're from Mufleyrin, right?"

"I… Sort of." Silla responded, tucking a loose strand of red hair behind her ear. "I actually grew up outside the nations. My brother and I grew up on a little island to the south of Mufleyrin."

"Outside the nations?" Morrigan repeated. "Isn't that way too dangerous? Wouldn't you have been attacked by Nephiles, like, every day?"

"We found a way to make it work." Silla assured her. "It was all thanks to my brother, really… He trained me, and earned our income."

"He sounds super sweet! I can't wait to meet him tomorrow!" Morrigan grinned. She turned to Damian and he felt his stomach drop; he knew what was coming.

"I'm not giving you my life story." He told her bluntly.

Morrigan's shoulder's sagged. "Aww, but Silla went ahead and did her part, and you're next to her, which means you're next in the circle."

"You're next to her, too; you go next."

Grinning, Morrigan perked up. "Okay, so I was born right here, in Droengya. My dad, like I said, works in the Ustrad military - he's a Major General, which is a super high rank. My mother comes from a long line of nobility; her father was an earl. I have three older siblings, four if you count my brother-in-law Nicholas. Flint's in the military too, but he's a Captain. Roza is a doctor, and she's married to Nicky, and they have twins together. Bertrand works for the Schmidt Gemstone Company - you know, the biggest manufacturer and distributor of Gemstones in the world. And then there's me! I'm the second baby of the family. Klimt would be the first, since I'm older than him…"

It was at that point that Damian zoned out. He'd at least listened to her ramble on about her family, so he gave himself credit for that. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and stared at it, his thumb hovering over the contacts app. The thought of messaging his father poked into his mind again. He could say he'd landed safely, he'd been assigned into a team, maybe even tell him about them. He had to say at least something; he'd avoided it for long enough.

He settled on a simpler message, and his fingers began to move as he typed. _'Landed in Droengya safely. Classes start tomorrow.'_ He paused; what else should he say? He decided to close the message with a simple _'speak soon'_ , and pressed send. At least now his father couldn't lecture him about not talking to him.

He noticed Morrigan was still talking, but had moved on from herself to Klimt. "Klimt and I met at our old school, Edalore. He was super shy and didn't really talk to anyone, so I stepped up and introduced myself. He's been following me around ever since. He's practically a part of my family now!"

"Y-You make me sound like a nuisance when you say I 'followed you around'," Klimt complained.

"It's just true!" Morrigan shot back. "But I made him promise before we got here that he would try and make new friends with other people, even though he really resisted the idea. I mean, I get how you're so obsessed with me, but having lots of friends is a good idea!"

Klimt's cheeks flushed red, and he raised his hands to his face in an effort to cover up the rush of heat. "D-Don't say those kinds of things out loud…" He mumbled.

Morrigan nudged him teasingly before turning to Damian. "It's your turn for real this time, Damie." She said. "There's no escaping it! You know, I can really tell you're from Ustrad now, with that fur on your jacket. It is super cold there, after all. Why not go to their academy, Krimholdt? Why come here?"

"Because I wanted to." Damian replied bluntly. "That a good enough reason for you?"

Morrigan held up her hands. "Okay, okay, that's cool." Silence fell on the four. Silla shifted uncomfortably and stared down at her hands. Klimt, of course, glanced at Morrigan. Morrigan's mouth hung open awkwardly, seemingly having difficulty finding her words.

"So…" Morrigan began. "What's your family like, Damie? Parents, siblings…? Oh, I saw that picture of a blonde girl on your windowsill, is she-"

"It's not important." Damian snapped. "Why do you care so much? Pushing us into talking about ourselves like this. Did you just want the chance to gloat about yourself? Or do you just like pushing into people's personal lives?"

Morrigan's hurt eyes widened, flinching away from him. "N-No, that's not-"

She was cut off by Damian jumping out of his seat and storming out of the café, the bell above the door jingling as he threw the door open. The other customers stared at him as he left, and their eyes wandered over to the table he had risen from.

The remaining three sat in silence. Silla wrapped her arms around herself, hugging herself tightly. Klimt glanced between the two girls. Morrigan sighed and buried her face in her hands. "I can't believe this happened again…" she groaned. "First yesterday, and again today."

"I-It's not your fault," Klimt assured her, reaching a hand across the table to touch her arm. "You're trying your best to get to know him. To get all of us to open up to each other. Damian is just… different, I guess. Maybe just with some more time…?"

Morrigan took her face out of her hands, a frown on her face. "I have an idea." She said. She rose from her seat, leaving payment for their food and drinks on the table, and left the building. Silla glanced at Klimt, but he could only shrug his shoulders, and they took after Morrigan.

**\---**

Damian didn't exactly know where he was wandering off to - this was only his second time in Ardepolis. All he knew was that he was seething and he needed to cool off before he said or did something he regretted.

He knew, deep down, that Morrigan wasn't really to blame. Sure, she could stand to be a little less nosy about other people's lives, but she probably had good intentions or genuinely might not even know any better. She was from a wealthy family, and did come off as rather spoilt; perhaps she was allowed to get away with a lot at home, including poking into what others might be sensitive about.

That didn't stop her intrusiveness from hitting a nerve. He could have ignored her asking about his parents, but bringing up his sister's photograph had made something inside of him snap. 

He'd apologise later, but for now he was in no state of mind to talk to anyone.

He found himself in a park. A luscious green garden with flowers of every colour stretched out before him. There were other people strolling along the pathway; something of a given, considering the time of day and the sunny weather. He'd find a place to sit, he decided, until he felt ready to speak to his team again.

He removed his jacket and tied it around his waist - it was a hot day, especially for someone who comes from a naturally cold country. While he fumbled with tying the jacket sleeves, he realised his hands were trembling. He also knew that the sweat on his forehead wasn't just from the heat.

He'd noticed that happening quite a lot frequently. The cold sweat, the dizziness, the trembling, the heart palpitations, the way it felt like someone was kneeling on his chest and forcing the air out of him. It wasn't a random occurrence, really; the symptoms would begin after a particularly bad nightmare. Nightmares about his sister, and what happened to her.

The nightmares had vanished since he had left home. The change of scenery had done him good in that regard. So why had he been getting those symptoms just from Morrigan simply mentioning his sister?

A poster taped to a lamp post caught his attention and dragged him out of his thoughts. 'Missing' was printed across the top, and underneath was a photograph of a man who seemed a few years older than Damian himself. He had short blond hair, blue eyes, and was smiling joyfully. According to the information printed underneath, his name was Pryce McClain, and he had been missing since the previous day. 

Damian dismissed it and walked on - he hardly had time to think about something like that. He shoved his hands into his jean pockets so no one could see how they shook. He weaved through the crowd gathered in the garden, eager to find some breathing room. He thought of abandoning his plan to sit somewhere and how he could simply sneak back to Cricland before the others returned. He couldn't stand the thought of anyone around him staring at him and thinking him strange while he simply wanted to get his mind back on track. 

"Damie?"

Damian jumped. He whirled round, his hands out of his pockets and balled into fists. He fixed Morrigan with the harshest glare he could muster. "What do you want?"

"To apologise." She responded. "You're right - I shouldn't press people like that. I get that some stuff might be too personal to talk about with someone you met two days ago. Here, I got you this."

Morrigan removed her hands from behind her back and held a wrapped bundle before her. Cautiously, Damian took it from her and unwrapped it. It felt warm. Inside was a collection of freshly baked doughnuts, covered in a variety of icing and sprinkles. "I hear these are really popular in Ustrad." Morrigan said. "But I wasn't sure what flavour you liked, so I just got one of each." She paused. "Do you… like them?"

Damian almost scoffed; like them? They were his favourite dessert in the whole world. Not that she needed to know that. "They're not bad," he replied, taking a bite out of one doughnut. "Thanks."

"Does this mean you forgive me? And we can be friends again?" Morrigan questioned. "I'll buy you more if you want."

Damian shook his head. "Now you're just sounding desperate."

They found Klimt and Silla on the other side of the garden - apparently Morrigan had told them to stay behind while she spoke to Damian. "Now that we're back together again, let's carry on with our exclusive tour!" Morrigan exclaimed. "There's an amazing ice cream shop over there; my treat!"

**\---**

The four returned to Cricland in the late afternoon. Silla separated from them before they reached their dorm room, saying that she wanted to visit her brother before evening fell on the school.

She lightly rapped her knuckles against the door in front of her. She was excited to see her brother Vennox again after a long time of being separated. She was surprised that he had taken a teaching position at Cricland, knowing how typically isolated from other people he usually was.

The door opened, revealing a taller red haired man stood on the other side. He smiled gently upon seeing her. Without saying a word, he moved, allowing Silla to step into his office. 

Closing the door behind him, Vennox turned to her and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. "It's good to see you again, Silla." He mumbled. "How are you settling in?"

Silla returned the hug, feeling at ease in his arms. "Alright, I think…"

Releasing each other, they settled into two chairs facing each other. "Tell me about them." He said. "Your team."

Silla took a deep breath - where could she possibly begin? "Well… there's Damian. He's kind of prickly, but still nice - he helped me with my bags after I got off the train, and let me sit next to him on the airship. He didn't hesitate to save someone else when she was in danger, either. I think he's just the type to keep to himself for the most part. He might open up a little more with time, but right now, he can be a little… scary. I've learnt that he really doesn't like talking about himself, either.

"Then there's Morrigan. She's…" Silla paused, searching for a good word to describe her teammate. "She's very lively. She's very enthusiastic about seemingly everything, and never seems to run out of energy. It's a little too much to handle sometimes, honestly. But she's still really friendly, and just wants to see us get along."

Vennox grumbled under his breath - he had heard bits and pieces about Morrigan Astarte, and he did not have a good picture of her in his mind. Discovering that she was to be in his class for Physical Combat was bad enough, but learning that she was one of his sister's teammates was worse.

"It was her idea to go out into the city today, to spend our first day as a team getting to know each other." Silla continued.

Vennox frowned. "You didn't tell them anything, did you?"

"No, no… Never." Silla assured him. "I just said we were raised outside the nations, on an island to the south of Mufleyrin, and that you trained me."

Vennox nodded. "And the last one?"

"Klimt is a little like me, I think." Silla told him. "He's also kind of shy and little unsure of himself… He's been Morrigan's best friend since before they arrived here. She's always overshadowing him, but I don't think he minds very much." She sighed. "But it's because he's so attached to Morrigan that I find it a little difficult to speak to him. It feels like he's not very interested in anything that isn't about her. He's still nice, but it seems difficult to get his attention sometimes."

Vennox reached over and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "If any of them ever start troubling you-"

"They won't. I think." Silla interrupted; she knew her brother would get protective. "I think they are good people, deep down, and I hope we can be friends eventually… It's just a little difficult right now."

Vennox forced himself to relax, for his sister's sake. "It's still early; you have only been a team for a day. Things may improve with time. But as I said, if anyone starts bothering you…"

"At least promise me you won't beat them up?" Silla asked; she couldn't help but smile despite herself. "Promise me, and I'll tell you if anyone bothers me."

Vennox smiled in return. "Alright. I promise."

Glancing at the time, Silla rose from her seat. "I should be getting back," she said. "The others are probably wondering where I am. I don't want them to worry."

Vennox opened the door for her, and she stepped out of the office. "You have my class tomorrow." He told her. "So I'll see you then."

Silla nodded. "See you tomorrow, Vennox."


	5. Class is in Session

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the first day of class for Cricland Academy, and the students meet teachers of various personalities...

Pryce McClain woke up.

His entire body felt heavy. The back of his head throbbed. His mind was foggy, and he couldn't seem to keep his eyes open, but he fought against the desire to close them. He tried moving, but couldn't - he felt something cold around his neck, wrists and ankles. All he could do was stare up at the grey ceiling and the dim lights hanging from it.

He couldn’t precisely remember how he got there, to this strange room. One moment, he had left work for his lunch break. He was planning to meet up with some of his friends. He vaguely remembered turning into an alleyway; a shortcut. He hadn’t even heard anyone come up behind him before pain exploded on the back of his head and the world went dark.

Somewhere nearby, a door creaked open, snapping Pryce back into the present day. Footsteps approached. "Ah, you're awake!" A male voice exclaimed, and the footsteps continued towards him. Pryce couldn’t move his head to look at the stranger. Eventually, the man entered his vision and leaned over him. The overhead light was casting a glare that made it difficult to view the man’s features, but Pryce could see some large metallic shape sticking out of the man’s head, and a round red light glowing out of the shape.

Pryce’s throat felt dry. The man looked him over and began muttering to himself. “A young male, twenty two years old, decent physical condition… Average physical strength… A good subject, for one of our first. Yes, quite a good subject.”

Pryce frowned. The man noticed his confusion and laughed. “Oh, dear me! How rude of me! I was so caught up in my analysis that I forgot to introduce myself.” He cleared his throat. “My name is Mr. Fabricant.”

Swallowing his nerves, Pryce licked his lips. “What do you want? Why am I here?” He whispered.

“You, my boy, have been chosen.” The man, Mr. Fabricant, informed him. “You see, before I can really set my plan into motion, I do need to… experiment. You know, try one thing, and see if I like it or not. See if it works. I need to work out just what I can do to someone such as yourself to make you fit into my vision.”

Pryce frowned again. “What?”

“I was satisfied with just turning whatever weak humans I could find into robots, you see.” Mr. Fabricant continued. “But after my last experiment, I realised that perhaps I could do something else, on top of my original plan. Perhaps, with a good enough subject, I could combine their human features with whatever robotic features I bestowed upon them. So, you would be keeping some of your innate human body, but made infinitely better by my own upgrades. Sounds cool, right?”

Pryce could only stare at the shadow leering over him. He thought he could see a smirk playing on the other man’s lips.

"I've already made such alterations with my first experiment." Mr. Fabricant revealed. "A flawless success - not bad for my first time, if I do say so myself. That subject wasn't quite as physically inclined as you, but thanks to my upgrades, it's much stronger than it was before."

Mr. Fabricant stood and stared, allowing the dramatics of his rambling to sink in. "But I digress," he sighed, clapping his hands together. "It's time for the next experiment; it's time for _your_ upgrades, my boy. I wonder what I'll call you when I'm finished…?" Mr. Fabricant turned his back, focusing on something on the table before him.

Pryce shook his head as much as he could manage. "No, please don't… Please…"

Mr. Fabricant turned back to him, holding a syringe full of purple liquid. Pryce thrashed against his binds and screamed, shouted, yelled in the fleeting hope that _someone_ would hear him and save him. Mr. Fabricant's hand pushed against the side of Pryce's face in an attempt to control his target's movements.

Pryce felt a painful prick in the side of his neck. Almost immediately, he was feeling the effects of whatever the madman had injected him with; he began to feel hot, and his breathing was getting strained. His chest hurt, his lungs burning as the minutes passed and he failed to inhale a sufficient amount of oxygen to ease the burning. He gasped and gasped but he was getting nothing.

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Pryce slowly stopped thrashing. His eyes flickered shut, the burning in his chest persisting until eventually he felt nothing at all.

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**\---**

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This time it was Morrigan's turn to be woken up from her slumber. It was half past eight and the other three were already awake and dressed in their uniforms, prepared for their first day of class. Each wore a red blazer jacket over a white shirt and a black tie, red trousers and polished black shoes.

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Morrigan slowly opened the door, her long black hair unkempt. "It's too early…" She groaned.

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"Class starts in an hour and a half," Klimt told her. "You'd better get a move on, especially since I know how long it takes you to get ready."

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Mumbling, Morrigan shut the door. Twenty minutes later, she emerged from her room dressed in her own uniform - she wore a skirt and black leggings instead of the trousers. The four walked to the dining hall for breakfast. The hall was full of their fellow students, unlike the previous day.

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After eating, they departed the hall to attend their first lesson: Vitality and Essence Usage. They entered the classroom and had a minor struggle amongst themselves as to where to sit; Silla wanted to sit at the front so they could pay more attention to the lecture, Morrigan wanted to sit at the back because 'only nerds and teacher's pets sit at the front', and Klimt feebly tried to convince Morrigan to follow Silla's lead to no avail. Damian ignored the whole fiasco.

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They eventually compromised and settled into one of the middle rows.

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At ten o'clock, a woman entered the room, and the chatter died down. She had long blonde hair curling to the left side of her face, and she wore a white off the shoulder jumper and light blue trousers.

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She flashed a gentle smile at the class. "Good morning," she greeted them. "My name is Dove Granger, and I will be your professor for this module."

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Dove took roll call, each student responding to their name as it was called out. Once attendance had been taken, Dove set the list to one side on her desk.

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She stepped out from behind her desk and began to pace in front of it. "I understand that most, if not all of you, will have already studied Vitality and Essences at your previous schools. However, those studies were quite basic - I am here to provide you with a more advanced understanding of such concepts. As your understanding increases, so too will your capability to use such abilities."

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She stopped pacing and glanced around the room. "So, a simple warm up question - what is Vitality?"

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Damian raised his hand. At Dove's prompting, he answered. "It's energy from our souls that manifests itself into a protective shield. It defends us from otherwise fatal attacks until it's broken from too much damage."

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"Correct," Dove nodded. "All humans and animals possess Vitality. Nephiles, however, do not - they lack the souls to manifest it. This also means that Nephiles cannot use Essences. Which brings me to my next question - what is an Essence?"

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Not to be outdone by Damian, Morrigan raised her hand. "It's a special ability unique to everyone. It also comes from our soul like Vitality does."

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"That's right." Dove confirmed. "Our Vitality and our Essence are linked due to originating from the same source - our soul. It's important to understand both concepts in order to use them to their full effect. For today, though, we'll take things one step at a time and focus on Vitality today.

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"Like Damian said, our Vitality protects us from attacks that would normally be fatal. Our ancestors lacked the ability to utilise Vitality, so you could say we're quite lucky to be able to protect ourselves with it. People can be born with different levels of Vitality - those with more can withstand more attacks. Research still doesn't tell us why some are born with more than others, though. Vitality is also linked to our Essence usage; when you use your Essence, it uses up your Vitality, and if your Vitality is depleted, you can't use your Essence until it is restored.

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"It's vital that you always keep in mind how much Vitality you have during combat. Not just to protect yourself, but also regarding your Essence and if you can use it. If your Vitality is completely depleted, you become open to mortal attacks just like a normal human, and some Vitality recovery rates can be quite slow."

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Dove continued to lecture the class on the specifics of Vitality. Klimt and Silla were diligently taking notes, while Morrigan rested her chin in her hands, her pen abandoned, her eyelids drooping.

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Eventually, the bell rang, signalling the end of class. The students began to pack up their belongings into their bags. "Please make sure you read the chapter on Essences in your textbooks before our next class." Dove called over the noise.

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Morrigan yawned as the four walked to their next class. "Boring," she muttered. "We did all of that stuff already. Why do I need to hear the same thing twice?"

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"I thought it was interesting…" Silla said. "Besides, she is right. That kind of stuff is really important."

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They arrived at their next class, which was History. At eleven, a man strolled into the room and stood behind the desk at the front. His black hair was styled into a comb over. He wore a black polo shirt under a grey suit jacket and black jeans. He greeted the class with a shy smile.

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Klimt's face fell. He turned Morrigan with concerned eyes. "Oh, no…"

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Morrigan ignored him; her attention had been taken by the man behind the desk. Her jaw fell open as soon as she saw him, her eyes wide. "Shut up." She gasped loudly. "No way. No way, no way…!"

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"What?" Damian snapped at her.

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"That's Ianto Sato!" Morrigan announced, tugging on Klimt's arm without glancing away from their teacher. Her squealing had attracted the attention of everyone else in the room. "When our schedules said 'Professor Sato', I didn't think it'd be that Sato…!"

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"Is he famous or something?" Silla asked.

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Morrigan scoffed. "Is he famous? He's only the lead singer of Panic, one of the best and most influential bands of the past decade!"

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"Former lead singer," Ianto corrected, smiling sheepishly. "I, ah, work solo now. So, um… hello, everyone." He waved. "I suppose I don't have to introduce myself, since Morrigan did it for me-"

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"He knows my name…!" Morrigan whispered to Klimt, tugging on his arm more enthusiastically.

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"But I'll do so anyway." Ianto continued. "The name's Ianto Sato, and I'll be your History professor."

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Ianto took the second roll call of the day - Morrigan answered very enthusiastically when her name was called, prompting an eye roll from Damian.

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Ianto eventually set the sheet of paper down and glanced up to address the class. "Great. With that out of the way, let's get started." He began. "A lot of people question why we have to know about the past. Because it's already happened, right? It's all over. So why should we care?

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"We should care because if we understand our history, we can make a better future. People aren't perfect; we've screwed up big time in the past, more times than anyone can count. If you understand how those screw ups came to be, you can stop them from happening again. It's just generally nice to understand how we got to where we are, today, though.

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"So," Ianto sat on his desk, facing his students. "Let's start at the very, very, very beginning. The birth of the universe itself. Here's an easy one - who's responsible for it?"

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One student closer to the front raised their hand. "The Divine Kaliara." They responded.

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"That's right," Ianto nodded. "The Divine Kaliara gave birth to our world. There are a couple of theories around why She wanted to make Her very own universe. Some say She suffered tremendously in another world, and after escaping, sought to create Her own in which such suffering would be nonexistent. Others claim that She had created many other worlds in the past, and that ours was just one in a long line. So, She created the world, as well as the life forms on it. That includes us."

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Another student raised her hand. "Was The Divine Kaliara responsible for Nephiles, as well?"

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"We can't know for sure, but evidence suggests that no, She had nothing to do with that." Ianto replied. "For one, people like us and animals have souls, whereas Nephiles do not. Why would She grant some lifeforms souls, but not others? No one really knows where Nephiles came from. But it was obvious that they were going to be a problem for Her creations. Who can tell me what She did to counteract the threat?"

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Damian raised his hand. "She gave humanity the ability to manifest Vitality, to protect against fatal attacks, as well as the ability to use Essences to get the upper hand against Nephiles in battle."

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"That's right," Ianto nodded. "By granting people this gift, we could stand a better chance at defending ourselves against giant monsters that would love nothing more than to eat us alive."

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A girl sat closer to the back scoffed. "If Kaliara was basically a god, why didn't she just get rid of the Nephiles herself?"

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Ianto smiled with strained patience. "Now, Galina, remember - when we reference Her, we use Her proper title out of respect for Her and Her worshippers, okay? But, to answer your question, no one really has a solid answer. But a common theory is that since She was a deity of life and creation, then the concept of destruction was either simply impossible for Her, or it just wasn't in Her innate nature. Basically, She physically couldn't get rid of them."

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Galina muttered something that was likely blasphemous, based on the glares she was getting from other students in the room.

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"As you can imagine," Ianto cut in, continuing before any fighting could break out. "The people of the time loved The Divine Kaliara. And why wouldn't they? She created them and made them stronger - She may have even lived among them, if certain texts are to be believed. They worshipped Her feverently, and in return She granted them yet another blessing. Who can tell me what that was?"

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"Gemstones." A student told him.

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"Right," Ianto confirmed. "Gemstones also came from The Divine Kaliara. They allowed control over various elements, which Hunters now use to add to their own abilities..."

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Eventually, the bell rang for lunch. The four made their way to the dining hall, full of the din of chatter and clattering plates and cutlery. 

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"You don't have some weird crush on him or something, do you?" Damian asked Morrigan as they ate. "Professor Sato."

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"Oh, no, no, no." Morrigan replied, shaking her head. "It's nothing like that - he's not into girls like that, anyway. But he was, like, the biggest influence in my own career. I look up to him a lot. Well, I looked up to the whole band, before they split up over some stupid fight about royalties…"

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"I wonder how he came to be a history professor, then…" Klimt muttered. "It's a huge change in career."

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Morrigan shrugged the topic off and turned to Silla. "Hey, so, I swear that goddess he talked about comes from Mufleyrin, right? Where you're from?"

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"I'm surprised you know that." Damian remarked.

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"Ha ha, funny." Morrigan pouted. "But as I was saying, before I was rudely interrupted, does that mean you worship Her as well?"

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"Oh, um… I do." Silla confirmed, a little put out by the question. "But I wouldn't say I'm really serious about it, like other people are. I respect She exists and what She did for us, but I also understand that not everyone feels the same."

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"Oh. Do you pray, then? Or do any other religious stuff?"

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"I pray sometimes… When I want to. It brings a sense of peace to me, when I find myself overwhelmed."

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Seemingly satisfied with that answer, Morrigan nodded and preoccupied herself with her food. Lunch soon ended and it was time for their final lesson of the day: Physical Combat with Silla's older brother.

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He was already in the room when they arrived. A tall, muscular man with tanned skin, he had red hair - the same shade as Silla's - and dark eyes. He wore a brown jacket over a red shirt and black trousers. A sword was sheathed at his hip.

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He watched everyone in the room with intense eyes as they entered. No one was chatting much as they took their seats; even Morrigan had nothing witty or nonsensical to say. Once everyone had sat down, silence hung in the air for a few moments. A few students shifted uncomfortably. 

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"My name is Vennox Thabine," the man at the front eventually announced. "I will be your Physical Combat professor. This won't be like your other classes; there won't be any lectures or note taking. This class' purpose is to test your combat ability in a practical capacity. You will be dueling with each other, starting today. Who wants to start the first match?"

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Immediately, Morrigan raised her hand. "I will, Professor!"

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Vennox regarded her with narrowed eyes. "Very well." He said. Grinning, Morrigan rose from her seat and passed the rows of students to stand at the front of the room. "Choose a sparring partner." Vennox instructed her.

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"Hmm," Morrigan murmured, her eyes scanning her fellow students. Her eyes eventually settled on a grey haired boy who sat closer to the front, whose clothes looked quite elaborate and a little silly. She pointed at him. "Him."

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Somewhat startled at being chosen, the boy quickly recovered and rose out of his seat, and joined Morrigan at the front of the room. His hair was long, tied into a low ponytail that hung over his right shoulder. There were white ruffles on his shirt sleeves, and further ruffles in the form of a cravat. A jian hung from his belt.

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"Hi there," Morrigan greeted. "What's your name?"

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The boy's eyes widened at the question. "Elas." He eventually responded.

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"I'm Morrigan. But you probably already knew that." Morrigan grinned. She took her guitar from her back, the blades shooting out of the body. "Shall we get started?"

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Nodding, Elas drew his sword from its sheath and held it out in front of him. Morrigan rolled her eyes - it looked like another old boring weapon, just like Klimt's katana. No special features or anything.

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"The fight will proceed until one participant's Vitality is depleted by half," Vennox informed them. "You may begin."

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Morrigan charged forward, swinging her guitar in front of her. Elas blocked the blades with his sword, and Morrigan swung again. Clashing metal rang throughout the room as the blades from both weapons collided continuously.

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Morrigan jumped back and swung for Elas' side. Elas slid back to avoid the collision, and delivered a kick to Morrigan's stomach. Morrigan stumbled back. Growling under her breath, she swung for Elas' head. Elas ducked and rolled under the swing, hitting her ankle with the hilt of his sword. The attacked leg gave out under her, and with a muffled cry Morrigan fell to one knee.

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Rising to her full height, Morrigan activated the gun inside of her guitar and pointed the barrel at Elas. She squeezed the trigger multiple times, the shells streaking through the air towards the silver haired boy. Elas ran at her, avoiding the shells as they advanced. Pain exploding at his side told him he must have missed one and been hit. He stumbled.

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Morrigan charged at him, smirking. When she was close enough, she swung her axe at Elas. To the onlookers, it looked as though the swing would send the boy crashing into the wall.

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Metal clanged together. Morrigan's eyes widened; Elas had raised his blade just in time to block the incoming attack. Elas stepped back, disengaging their blades. Morrigan stumbled forward, still propelled by the momentum of her previous attack. Elas swung his sword directly at her abdomen, sending Morrigan flying backwards and falling in a heap on the floor.

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Vennox raised a hand. "There," he said. "Morrigan's Vitality has been depleted by half - thus, Elas wins." He turned to Morrigan. "Brute strength won't win every battle alone - you can't expect victory through mindless swinging and shooting. You need to approach battle strategically."

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Morrigan simply groaned from her place on the floor.

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Sheathing his sword, Elas jogged towards Morrigan and extended a hand. "Are you alright? My apologies if I injured you."

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Morrigan shook her head and took his hand, allowing herself to be pulled to her feet. "No, I'm okay… You're pretty good, Elas. I was just holding back, obviously; I didn't fancy humiliating you in front of everyone. I'm not that mean. But if we ever have a rematch, I'll show you how strong I really am, so you'd better watch out!"

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Elas watched her for a few moments before nodding. "I'd… like that. A rematch." He said.

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With class dismissed, the students left the room. With no more classes to attend, the four went back to their dorm. Morrigan entered the room first and stretched out on the sofa. "I'm totally beat," she said, stifling a yawn with her hand. "That really took it out of me. Your brother sure doesn't pull any punches, Silla. I felt like I was getting told off by my dad."

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Damian settled on the other sofa, propping his feet up against the coffee table. He flipped open his Vitality and Essence textbook to the chapter Dove had asked them to read. "He's right, though," he shrugged. "You just charge into things without thinking. That's why you lost."

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Silla smiled sympathetically at Morrigan. "Vennox doesn't say those things to be harsh. It's his job to help us, especially with our weaknesses. He just takes a matter of fact approach to it - he says it's more useful than trying to sugarcoat things."

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"I guess so." Morrigan shrugged before directing her attention to Damian. "I'm just amazed that you're reading that now. Aren't you tired?"

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"Not really." Damian replied, turning a page. "If I get it out of the way now, I don't have to worry about it later. You could take the same approach."

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"But reading's boring." Morrigan whined. She looked up at Klimt. "Hey, Klimt, you know how you're, like, my best friend? In the whole wide world? In the whole universe? My amazing brother-"

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"What is it?" Klimt asked.

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"Can you read that chapter to me? Pretty please? It'll help Silla, too!"

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Klimt looked put out by the request. Eventually he sighed. "Fine."

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Grinning, Morrigan gave Klimt her own textbook. He turned to the chapter and began reading it aloud, while Morrigan closed her eyes and listened. The rest of the evening progressed uneventfully until night fell and the four went to bed.

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Before flicking the light switch off, Damian checked his phone. He had messaged his father yesterday and he had received no response. Damian grumbled to himself; his father did have a habit of tuning out of the outside world while working on a project.

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He thought nothing more of it and flicked the light switch, settled down into his bed and closed his eyes.

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	6. Peace and Panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second day at Cricland Academy commences, but soon tragedy strikes close to home...

The first class of the next day was Nephile Biology. Morrigan had been particularly unenthusiastic about the class, complaining that it sounded 'gross'. Klimt practically dragged her to the classroom. The four settled into seats in the middle of the room.

The door opened, and a tall woman stalked into the room, a purple cape trailing behind her. She had dark hair, tied into a low ponytail, and dark skin. A quiver of arrows was clipped to her belt. She was carrying something covered by a sheet.

After reaching her desk and placing the sheet covered object on it, she turned to face the students with icy blue eyes. "Good morning," she greeted, adjusting her black gloves as she did so. "Welcome to Nephile Biology. My name is Dravena Sardonyx. I will teach you the physiology of every type of Nephile known to man. Why?" Her lips formed a thin smile. "To kill them more efficiently, of course."

The atmosphere in the classroom suddenly became uneasy. Several students became tense, their hands gripping the desks before them. Damian leaned forward with an increased interest, earning him a nervous glance from Silla.

"If you cannot kill them, they will kill you." Dravena continued. "Or, perhaps worse, they will kill civilians. They are emotionless; they will not care if the prey in front of them is a child, or even a newborn. They will tear anything they see to unrecognisable shreds. They won't go down without a fight. Luckily for us, most of them have weaknesses we can exploit to put them down."

Dravena turned on the projector that hung from the ceiling. A hologram was projected into the front of the room. The professor flicked the light switch, plunging the room into darkness, the only source of light emanating from the holographic image.

The image was of an owl-like creature with black and purple feathers and a white face. Its eyes were black with a red tint. Amongst Hunters, it was recognised as a Gretaisk, a type of Nephile that was generally considered low risk; a mere annoyance compared to its stronger brethren.

"Gretaisks are nocturnal; you would be more likely to encounter them during night time excursions." Dravena explained. "They roost during the day, typically in holes in trees. They are exceptionally weak compared to others, and they seem to know it. Instead of fighting threats head on, they employ what we call a hit and run strategy - they strike with their talons before flying away, out of danger, before potentially swooping for another attack. Otherwise, they simply escape.

"Now, what to do, should you come across them? Gretaisks attack when they feel threatened - if they are left alone, they often pose little threat. This distinguishes them from other Nephiles, who undoubtedly have a taste for blood. Even if they do attack, sometimes they simply flee. In the occasion that you must put them down, however, a single hit is usually what it takes. They really are quite weak."

Dravena moved to the object covered by the sheet, gripped the material and threw it away. A cage was revealed, with a Gretaisk trapped inside. It began screeching and flapping its wings as soon as it saw the students, causing most of them to jump back in their seats. Dravena smirked.

"I-Is that safe, Professor?" One student asked after regaining his composure. "What if it breaks out?"

"Then one strong hit is all we would need to snuff it out." Dravena responded. "Normally, I would ask for a demonstration… but not today. I'm quite fond of Gretaisks, particularly the ones I choose to keep. I would hate to watch the unnecessary slaughter of such fascinating creatures."

"Choose… to keep?" Morrigan repeated under her breath. "Wait, she actually keeps these…?!"

Dravena leaned closer to the cage, completely nonchalant to the way the Gretaisk was snapping its beak at her. "Do you see its chest?" She called to the class over the ruckus. "The way its feathers are more ruffled and puffed up there compared to the rest of its body? That serves to cover up its weakness - the fact that it has a weaker bone structure there. That weaker structure is what makes an attack to its chest so fatal. Nothing points to why this weakness exists; I call it being simply biologically unlucky."

She covered the cage with its sheet once again. The Gretaisk's screeching became slightly muffled before stopping completely. The class breathed a collective sigh of relief. 

When class was dismissed some time later, there was a noticeable rush to leave the classroom. "That was weird." Morrigan commented once Dravena was out of earshot. "Like, super weird. She's kind of creepy."

"Is keeping Nephiles even legal?" Klimt questioned. "It seems like a health and safety risk, especially considering she apparently brings them to class."

Silla shrugged. "Well… it also looks like she has them under control. She is our professor for a reason; I'm sure she would be able to handle it even if one of them got out of hand."

The next class of the day was Battle Strategy, with Professor Ash Harper, who entered the room shortly after the students. His dark blue hair was short and combed back. One of his eyes was green, the other a light blue. He wore a purple suit jacket with matching trousers and black boots.

He smiled somewhat nervously at the class as he placed his books on the desk. "Hello," he greeted them. "It's nice to meet you. My name's Ash, and I'll be your Battle Strategy teacher.

"I know this class might not sound very fun for some of you - it's more theoretical compared to your more practical classes. But grasping strategy behind battle is important; it could mean the difference between life and death. You need to think your battles through, instead of simply relying on your strength or luck. I hope my class will allow you to grow in developing strategies that allow you to complete your missions successfully."

Ash had the class working through their textbooks, discussing hypothetical battle scenarios and how they would tackle such a battle if they were present in person. He pointed to a particular question on one page. "'You are trapped in a forest at night. You are surrounded by a pack of Bonvue. Devise a strategy that would enable you to escape unharmed. Consider conditions such as reduced Vitality, fatigue and low visibility'." He read out. "Discuss that amongst your teams."

Morrigan scoffed. "What is there to discuss? Just beat the crap out of them all."

"Did you miss the part where he told us to consider reduced Vitality and fatigue?" Damian asked. "We're supposed to assume that getting to that point exhausted us too much to fight."

"In that case, we're just going to die!" Morrigan exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "This question's impossible! What else could the answer be?"

"Maybe the answer isn't about fighting at all." Klimt cut in to diffuse the situation. "If we'd be too exhausted to fight or escape anywhere, we'd just have to find some other way."

Silla was curling loose strands of her hair between her fingers. "Um… I might have something." She began quietly. "Well… Bonvue are fast and strong. Running would be pointless, since they could catch up easily. Even with the darkness, their sense of smell and hearing are excellent. Their one weakness is that they are solely ground hunters; they can't reach things in trees, or in the sky. That's how birds can avoid them. So if we climbed a tree, or otherwise escaped through flight, they wouldn't be able to chase after us."

Ash had heard her answer above the hubbub of noise, and smiled pleasantly. "That's right," he said. "It really is as simple as that - taking advantage of their weakness by hiding somewhere they can't reach. Sometimes the most unconventional solution is the correct one. Well done."

Silla's cheeks flushed pink at the compliment. She rested her elbows on the desk before her to hide her face with her hands. Morrigan huffed and crossed her arms, glancing away from the class with a scowl.

It was lunchtime after Ash's class, so the four walked to the cafeteria. Morrigan's footsteps held more weight to them as she stomped into the room. She fell heavily into her seat once they had found a table and collected food. "That class has to be rigged," she mumbled. "How were we supposed to know you had to go camping in a tree or something?"

"So you didn't get a question. So what?" Damian shrugged. "Stop being such a sore loser about it."

"She isn't a sore loser." Klimt said, casting a warning glance at Damian. "She just wants to do well in her classes. Like we all do."

Morrigan opened her mouth to respond, but stopped. She seemingly thought better of it, and simply occupied herself with eating.

Silla turned to look at her. "I'd be happy to help you with anything you struggle with. You only have to ask."

Morrigan shook her head. "No, no, no. I can't do something like that. A scion of the noble Astarte family, relying on someone else for help? That completely goes against our rules. When we find success, we achieve it of our own accord!"

Silla offered a smile in response, unsure of what else to say. Damian rolled his eyes, biting his tongue to stop himself from insulting Morrigan again.

After lunch, their final class of the day was an hour of study in the library. The students arrived in the library, but soon found themselves standing at the entrance with no one to greet them and introduce the session.

A woman with pink hair in a bun was seated nearby, her nose intently buried in a book. The group watched her, but all she did was turn the pages of her book. Nobody seemed to want to move out of their collective group to speak to her. Eventually, Morrigan moved towards her. "Excuse me?" She said.

The woman looked up. She had brown eyes behind round glasses. "Can I help you?" She asked.

"Yeah - we're here for study period…?"

"Oh!" The woman exclaimed, rising from her seat. "Is it that time already? I didn't even hear you come in!"

She stepped around her desk and approached the group, smiling widely. "Hello! It's so good to finally meet our next class! Oh, I should probably introduce myself." She cleared her throat. "My name is Aziza Raegan. I'm the librarian here at Cricland. Before you ask, yes, I am related to Fenmore, our assistant headteacher. They're my cousin. So any misbehaviour gets reported right to the top of the food chain!"

Aziza explained the purpose of the hour as she led the group further into the library. It was an opportunity for the students to complete homework, study and conduct their own research into whatever topics they wished. "I should say that this is technically an optional slot, so you don't have to attend every study period." She elucidated. "But I'd still make an effort. You can never go wrong with more studying! But maybe I'm a little biased on the matter…"

The class scattered into their individual team tables. Damian and Klimt flicked through textbooks. Silla did the same, except she was taking notes. Morrigan rested her head on her crossed arms that sat on the table, watching them.

Ten minutes passed before she got bored. "I'm not in the mood to study." She declared, rising from her seat. "I want to get some air. Or just do anything else."

"You're just leaving?" Klimt asked, looking up at her. "We haven't been here that long… Besides, are we even allowed to just leave in the middle?"

"She said this was optional, right? If I'm quiet, no one will care. You don't have to follow me, by the way - think of this as a chance to get to know Silla and Damie better without me interfering! I'll see you guys later."

Before Klimt could argue back, Morrigan left, glancing around to ensure she wasn't spotted by the librarian. Klimt watched her as she went and wished he had gone with her anyway - already he felt disoriented with having to interact without her to save him when things got awkward.

Silla was somewhat easy to talk to, he supposed. They were similar in their shy dispositions, so at least they had that in common. Damian, on the other hand… Klimt wasn't a fan of his attitude, to say the least, particularly towards Morrigan.

"I hope she isn't still upset about what happened in Professor Harper's class." Silla sighed. "I feel bad…"

"You shouldn't." Damian told her. "She'll get over it. It's not your fault you're better at something than her."

Silla mumbled in response, but she still looked bothered. Klimt leaned towards her. "She'll be okay." He told her. "She isn't the kind of person to let little things knock her down. She probably was just bored - she gets like that easily. She'll be back to her usual self the next time we see her."

Silla smiled slightly, seemingly more comforted. "I hope you're right."

\---

Morrigan strolled around the school, going nowhere in particular. She wanted to find something to do - something better than some study period - but she'd never coped well on her own. Why did she run off without the others?

She didn't need to sit in some library and read a book. She didn't need to answer some hypothetical questions that had absurd answers. She knew everything she needed to already. She had graduated from Edalore at the very top of the class. If that wasn't enough, she was a member of the Astarte bloodline. Why she had to attend another school when she was already the best, she had no idea.

She had stumbled into a small, pretty courtyard with tables and chairs spaced out among the grass and flowers. Trees provided shelter from the sun. She sunk into a chair and took out her phone, resting her chin in one hand while scrolling on the screen with the other.

"Morrigan?"

Her eyes darted up from her phone; she recognised that voice. Ianto stood a few feet away, staring at her quizzically. "Is everything alright?" He asked, stepping closer.

Morrigan straightened up. "Yep! Just fine!" She exclaimed. "Just, uh… hanging out. Here."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Alone? Where are your teammates?"

"In the library. In study period. I left. I got bored." She paused. "Are you going to give me detention or something?"

Ianto chuckled. "No, no. It is technically optional." Another pause. "Are you sure you're alright? You look bothered by something."

Morrigan shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I am? I'm glad you came by, actually - there's something I wanted to ask you."

"Oh?" Ianto dropped into the seat opposite her. "What is it?"

"Why did Panic break up? I mean really break up. Surely it wasn't just about royalties…?"

Ianto's eyes widened at the question. After a few moments, he sighed. "Sorry, but that's exactly what it was. There were arguments about who earned what, who really had the rights to certain lyrics and songs… It tore us apart. We had no choice but to go our separate ways."

Morrigan deflated. "Oh… and there's no way you guys can make up…?"

Ianto offered a sympathetic smile. "I don't think so. I doubt they want to see my face again." He frowned at Morrigan's crestfallen expression. "Does this really mean that much to you?"

"Does it sound weird and pathetic and creepy? It probably does."

"No, no-!" Ianto exclaimed, holding up his hands. "It's not weird at all. I was just surprised - to hear that we meant so much to someone. Especially someone like you; you're a celebrity in your own right."

"Yeah, well… I've been a fan for practically my whole life." Morrigan shrugged. "I guess the whole split hit me harder because it was at a time that was already pretty hard for me."

"Oh… I'm sorry to hear that." Ianto said. "Is everything okay now…?"

"Oh, yeah, sure, everything's fine now." Morrigan assured him. "Just, you know… boy trouble. There was a guy I really liked, but we had to break things off. My family warned me about him, but I didn't listen, and they ended up being right about him." She smiled. "Listening to your music helped me get through it, but then Panic also split up… It was just rough, one thing after another."

Ianto frowned. "I'm sorry… I figured people would be at least upset, but if I'd known it would have devastated you like that, I'd have done more to keep us together."

Morrigan giggled despite the topic at hand. "It's okay; you had no idea. Besides, it wasn't all bad - Panic inspired me to make my own career in music. It's not like it's all gone, either. You still sing, after all!"

"Not too much nowadays… Not a lot of people know who I am without the band name backing me up. I'm not too popular, so my gigs have a low turnout…"

Morrigan leant forward, grinning. "How about this? We should work on some songs together! I'm still kind of a newbie at songwriting. You could teach me! Our styles are pretty similar, too. Then, once we have songs worked out, we could hold a collab tour! Working with me could help to get your name out there! And who knows - working with me could make your old bandmates totally jealous!"

Ianto smiled. "I'd like that. I haven't worked with someone like that in a while… I've missed it, honestly."

"Great! I can't wait to get started!" Morrigan grinned.

Ianto glanced at his phone and jumped out of his seat. "Oh, I better go. I have a class to teach in ten minutes." He turned to go, but stopped to call over his shoulder. "Morrigan? If anything ever bothers you again, you can talk to us. All of your professors, I mean - not just me. Helping you is what we're here for."

He walked away and eventually faded from Morrigan's sight. With a new bounce in her step, she rose from her seat and turned back in the direction of the library. 

She saw her friends leaving the library and jogged up to them. "How was it? Boring? I thought it would be."

"Where did you get to?" Klimt asked. 

"I ran into Professor Sato. We chatted for a bit." Morrigan replied. "So it was totally worth leaving!"

Damian rolled his eyes. "Good for you. I'm going to the training grounds. See you guys later." He walked away.

The three watched him leave, a somewhat awkward air hanging between them. Morrigan snapped them out of their trance as she led them away, using a hand to grip their shoulders. "Nevermind Mr. Grumpy Goat. So, as I was saying, I saw Professor Sato just now…"

\---

The night air was warm as Galina Turgenev entered the Cricland campus. She climbed the closed gates and dropped onto the grass on the other side, wandering to her dorm.

She had been in town with her friends after classes had ended that day. It was almost midnight now, and she figured she should at least try and get some sleep in order to be coherent in class the next day.

She would have to be sneaky - she had heard rumours that teachers patrolled the school hallways during the night to ensure no one was doing something they shouldn't. Not that she was up to no good; getting caught would simply be very annoying.

There was a loud thunk behind her. Galina whipped around, expecting to come face to face with a disapproving professor.

She was instead met with a person wearing a helmet. The visor covered their eyes. They wore a jacket, dirtied trousers and what appeared to be metal boots. A sword was sheathed at their hip. They stood and stared at her.

"Who are you?" Galina demanded. She squinted at them, trying to get a better look at their face. 

No answer came. The unknown person just stood there and stared.

"Excuse me?" Galina approached them. "I asked who you are. Are you a student here too? What are you doing walking around at this time, especially dressed like that?"

Still no answer.

Huffing, Galina turned away and began walking towards her dorm. Some weirdo in a helmet wasn't her problem.

That was her last thought before feeling something heavy rattle the back of her skull, before darkness clouded her vision.


	7. Gone Galina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cricland students attempt to carry on as normal despite the news of Galina's disappearance, but not everyone is finding it easy to stay calm...

News of Galina's disappearance had spread through the school like wildfire by breakfast.

People were huddled into small groups, whispering about where she could have gone. Damian had hoped to avoid engaging in mindless gossip, but he then remembered he was on a team with Morrigan Astarte.

"Have you guys heard?" Morrigan asked as she settled into her seat. "A girl has gone missing."

"It's all anyone's been talking about all morning." Klimt said. "No one's seen her since last night."

"Third day of school and someone's already run off." Morrigan huffed. "I don't think this place is that bad." She chuckled.

No one responded. Her smile quickly faded and her laughter was replaced by silence. Silence that hung in the air for several moments.

"I knew her."

Three pairs of eyes turned towards the voice. Damian was glaring at the table, turning his fork against the plate in front of him. His shoulders were tense.

"You did?" Morrigan questioned.

"Not to talk to. Just by sight." Damian elaborated. "We're both from Ustrad, and we both went to Cludarts before coming here."

Silla frowned sympathetically. "I'm sorry," she muttered. "I hope she comes back soon."

"Yeah," Damian agreed. "Me too."

The rest of their breakfast was eaten in silence. Eventually they rose from their seats and prepared to head to their first class of the day. A voice through the overhead speakers stopped them.

_"Attention, students,"_ the voice, which many recognised as Fenmore Raegan's, began. _"Headmaster Izolin has called an assembly in the auditorium. Please gather there immediately."_

No one had to guess what the assembly was about. The students assembled in the auditorium, staring at the stage expectantly. Amoveus stood there, eyes glassy and unfocused as he stared at the ground. Fenmore stood next to him, watching the crowd of students unemotionally.

"Good morning." Amoveus said. Damian noticed how his voice trembled slightly. "As you have all undoubtedly heard by now, one of your fellow students has been declared missing. Galina Turgenev has not been seen since last night. From our information, she left campus last evening, and never returned.

I understand how easy it is to jump to the worst possible conclusion. What you must remember is that the investigation has just begun - the police don't yet have any further information. Once they do, and we have been informed, we will tell you. For now, it is important that you do not panic. Not only because we must have hope for Galina… but because panic will attract Nephiles. We can't have unnecessary panic risking further lives."

Fenmore stepped forward. "If you see something suspicious, do tell a member of staff. Do not try to confront any such situations yourself. You are only students - you yourselves arrived only a few days ago. It is smarter to leave such things up to those professionally trained."

"And please… do not think that the worst has happened yet." Amoveus pleaded. "Galina is strong, as all of you are. Until we find her, we must believe that she is unharmed and well. Stay calm, cooperate with the police should they ask for your help, and stay on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary."

With a curt nod, Amoveus left the stage. Fenmore dismissed them back to their lessons for the day. For Damian and his team, that meant Dove's lecture on Essences.

"Last time, we discussed what Vitality was and how we use it. Today, we will focus on our Essences." Dove began. "As Morrigan said last time, the Essence is a special ability unique to everyone. Like Vitality, they originate from our very souls. Essences allow us to do a great many things that would otherwise be impossible. For example, my Essence grants me the ability to heal wounds that are too severe for Vitality to heal on its own. Would anyone like to demonstrate what their Essence is?"

Morrigan's arm punched through the air. "I would, Professor!" She exclaimed. "Mine's a really cool one!"

Dove giggled and gestured for Morrigan to stand at the front of the room. Morrigan took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Three more versions of her materialised into view, each with different coloured hair ribbons. She twirled and her clones followed suit. The class erupted into surprised shouts and applause at the display.

"How fascinating." Dove said, clapping her own hands together. "I've certainly never seen an Essence like this before. Do they have minds of their own, or do you control them?"

"It's all me," Morrigan replied. "I just think something, and they do it. It's like I have my own team within a team!"

Various people laughed. Morrigan dismissed her copies with a click of her fingers, and they vanished. After Morrigan had settled back into her seat, Dove continued. "Essences are unique to each of us. While two people may appear to have identical Essences, there are bound to be the smallest differences to set them apart. There are several theories as to how Essences are formed, as well as several misconceptions surrounding them.

"There are some who believe that Essences are influenced by genetic components. This is not true. Essences come from your soul, which is separate from your biology. Your biological functions are physiological, while your Vitality and Essence are spiritual concepts. Your Essence is more influenced by your personality, by who and what you are. Some even believe that there's absolutely no correlation whatsoever; that the development of your Essence and what it will be is completely random and not influenced by anything. I know it's a little difficult to wrap your head around."

Someone raised her hand. "Aren't the CEC based on the idea that Essences are influenced by genetics?"

Damian rolled his eyes at the mention of the Crownall Essence Company. Abasi and Sanura Crownall started their business claiming that they could help people have children with powerful Essences by matching them with other people with compatible genetics. Despite the fact that a genetic link was disproven, many still believe that they can manipulate the Essences of their children by procreating with the right partner.

Dove nodded at the question. "They are, that much is true. It is also true that many people believe them and use their services. However, as I have already mentioned, there is no genetic link to how Essences are created. Despite many efforts by our queen, the company's operations have just never been shut down for good, and so many people continue to be swindled. It's quite sad…"

"Not so sad for the rest of us." Damian snorted. "It's their own fault for being so stupid and believing that kind of crap."

Silla glanced at him. "Maybe they really just don't know any better. People must flock to them for a reason; it is how they became as wealthy as they did…"

Damian shrugged, seemingly unwilling to argue further. With the ringing of the bell, the students began to collect their things. Morrigan cast an uneasy glance around the room, watching everyone. "What's wrong?" Klimt asked her.

"It's just weird, don't you think?" Morrigan asked. "Galina is missing, we have no idea why, and we're pretending like nothing's wrong. None of us are out searching for her, or even thinking about her. We're just going on as normal, going to class."

"Headmaster Izolin did tell us to stay calm," Klimt replied. "It's like he said - panicking won't solve anything. It would just make things worse. We should follow his advice and try to go on as normal."

Morrigan sighed. "Yeah… I guess. It still feels weird to me. We'll just have to hope for the best. I mean, it's not like she'll actually die or anything, right? She'll come back."

**\---**

Amoveus stood at the window in his office, gazing down at the courtyard miles below him. He watched several students going about their day; some were walking to class or to the library, while others were mingling amongst their friends on the grass. They were carefree and calm, exactly as he had instructed.

He wished he could take his own advice.

His mind was racing. How could he have allowed this to happen? It was his job to protect his students from harm. They were still learning how to be Hunters; they weren't yet ready for real danger. But a student taken from his very campus… He would have deemed it unthinkable if it wasn't a terrible reality.

He became a headmaster to prevent tragedies befalling the youth. Yet it seemed that all he had done was enable it.

The door opened. Footsteps alerted him to someone approaching his desk. He didn't need to look to know it was Fenmore - he had his assistant's footsteps practically memorised by now.

"You must at least try to stop worrying, sir." Fenmore advised him. "There's not much we can do now except wait for some good news. The police are doing everything they can."

"That's easy to say, of course," Amoveus sighed. "But who knows if we'll get such news?" He turned to face his assistant. "One of my students is missing, Fenmore. From this campus. Such things just aren't supposed to happen. To make matters worse, this isn't even the first disappearance of its kind."

Fenmore nodded solemnly. "I have heard of Pryce McClain. However, this may be an isolated incident. There's no evidence aside from a geographical closeness to suggest that these incidents are connected. As you said, Galina is strong. She trained at Cludarts, the toughest of the preparation schools. She will make it through this. The Divine Kaliara will see to it."

Amoveus turned away from the window and sank into his chair, running a hand through his dark hair. "Her parents will want to hear why we allowed such a thing to happen." He muttered. "Nothing I say can ease their panic. They have every right to blame me, of course."

"Perhaps we should consider measures to ensure no more students are taken." Fenmore suggested. "Galina was taken during the night, correct? If we implemented a strict curfew, there will be no more opportunities for students to be ambushed when they may be more vulnerable."

Amoveus nodded. "It's an idea…"

"We could also ask for more manpower around the school." Fenmore continued. "You know General Valya of the Ustrad Armed Forces, do you not? Perhaps she could lend us some of her officers. With them, there will be more eyes on the lookout for the culprit, which could discourage them from striking again."

Amoveus was silent. He knew Fenmore was right - with the help of the Ustrad military, he could prevent further kidnappings. If they provided enough soldiers, they could even spare some to patrol Ardepolis and elsewhere in Droengya. Yet he knew that asking such a thing of General Bronislava Valya would not be easy; she would undoubtedly be using the military to protect Ustrad from the same threat, not to mention any aid she may be providing to the other countries, Mufleyrin and Schokor.

"I will try," he eventually announced. "I'll speak to General Valya. I can't guarantee that she will help us, but I'll do what I can to convince her."

Fenmore nodded. "Very good, sir. I'll let the students know about their new curfew. Please tell me how consulting the general goes." They turned to leave the room, pausing at the door. "One more thing, sir," they called over their shoulder. "Please don't blame yourself for this. You had no idea such a thing was going to happen - you couldn't have prevented it, even if you think you could have."

Amoveus looked up at his assistant. "Thank you, Fenmore." He replied. He watched Fenmore leave the room before leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceiling. He stayed there for several minutes, silently collecting his thoughts, before rising from his seat and tapping on his phone. He pressed a name on the screen and set the device on the table. He waited.

A hologram of a figure appeared in answer to his call. Amoveus was met with the face of a stern looking woman with grey hair tied into a small ponytail. A black and red hat was perched on top of her head. "Izolin." She said in greeting.

"General Valya." Amoveus responded. "I have a request to ask of you. How willing would you be to part with some of your officers?"

Bronislava's icy blue eyes narrowed. "I suppose that depends on why you require them."

"You must have heard by now that one of my students has disappeared. Not to mention the other young man that has vanished recently. I believe that further disappearances could be prevented if we had more manpower to do so. With your officers, we could ensure that no students are left alone and vulnerable - they may even help to catch a perpetrator in the act."

Bronislava hesitated before replying. "Archbishop Ephynx has also asked me for a supply of officers to protect her own students. There have been similar occurrences near Ezronio."

Amoveus gasped - so other countries were under the same pressure. There was a culprit responsible, and whoever they are is capable of travelling between the countries relatively quickly.

"In that case," Bronislava continued. "You can expect a group of officers in three days. I will have them begin to prepare immediately."

Amoveus breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, General Valya. Your help truly is greatly appreciated."

"Do try to keep your remaining students safe before my officers get there."

Bronislava's image vanished from the room, leaving Amoveus alone once again. He sat back, his anxiety only partly alleviated. At least the extra manpower would bring some peace of mind.

The door opened, announcing Fenmore's return. "Fenmore," Amoveus began. "We should be expecting soldiers from the UAF in three days. They'll need somewhere to stay while they're here."

Fenmore smiled. "Very good, sir. I'll get in touch with the hotels."

**\---**

The scientist had no idea how much time had passed.

It seemed like so long ago that his very mind and body had been taken over by a rogue artificial intelligence. Mr. Fabricant spoke to him constantly, nattering on about this and that, yet he refused to answer the scientist's questions about what he was doing or why.

The scientist even found himself dissociating from the situation entirely. He forgot important things sometimes. He reasoned that it was likely the trauma having an adverse effect on his mind. The brain could be funny like that.

What was his name again?

Ezudus, he remembered. His name was Ezudus.

"I've been thinking," began Mr. Fabricant suddenly. "Maybe it's time I show you a sneak peek of what I've been working on."

Ezudus glanced up at his kidnapper. _"What… you've been working on?"_

"Sure. I think it'd fascinate you. Be interesting to you, you know?"

Ezudus suddenly found himself in control of his body. When he willed his arm or leg to move, it actually did move. He smiled, tears springing to his eyes. Rather, to the one eye that hadn't been taken over by a robot.

His eyes scanned the area around him. It was his laboratory. The familiar scenery sent a rush of relief through his body. He began to move, placing one clumsy foot in front of the other.

He moved around his laboratory, calling for his son. He called his son's name, again and again. He got no response. "Where's my son…?" He whispered, more to himself than to his kidnapper. "He has to be here…"

_"Go into the next room."_ Mr. Fabricant's voice commanded him.

Ezudus complied. He stepped into the next room, and immediately wished that he hadn't.

White sheets were laid out on the floor. Shapes lay under the sheets - shapes that looked suspiciously similar to human bodies. There were a lot of them, lined up in rows.

_"Impressed?"_ Mr. Fabricant asked. _"These are my projects. I haven't tested if they work, though. Not yet, anyway."_

Ezudus' voice became stuck in his throat. His mind had blanked. All he could do was stare.

_"Oh, there is one that works!"_ Mr. Fabricant chirped. _"My best project, if I may say so… Do you want to meet it? I'll call for it now."_

Clunking footsteps behind him alerted Ezudus to another presence. He didn't want to turn around; he didn't know what he might see. Something in him - likely Mr. Fabricant subconsciously forcing him to - made him turn around.

He saw a figure, somewhat taller than him. Their head was covered by a helmet, the visor covering their eyes. They wore a jacket, and trousers that were dirty. A sword was sheathed at their hip.

_"Do you like it?"_ Mr. Fabricant asked. _"Oh, I know you do. You're speechless. You're wishing you could make something even as half as amazing. Do you want to know what I've called it?"_

"Stop…" Ezudus begged. "No more… Just stop this…"

_"Apex."_ Mr. Fabricant continued, pride in its voice. _"This is Apex. It's been helping me collect other subjects for my project. It's been so helpful!"_

Ezudus stared at the figure dubbed Apex. They looked so lifeless, standing there still and silently. They looked frozen into place. Their chest didn't even move as it would with breathing. If Ezudus had been told they were dead, he would have believed it.

He could feel his consciousness slip away as Mr. Fabricant took back control. When would he be released from this nightmare…?


	8. Ustrad Armed Forces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morrigan's older brother Flint arrives with the Ustrad Armed Forces, alongside his talented lieutenant Marina Brunnhilde. Morrigan and Klimt take Flint on a tour of the school, while Damian challenges Marina to an impromptu sparring match...

The military presence promised by Bronislava arrived three days later. Two airships landed just outside the school gates, casting shadows over the courtyard. Several students had gathered and watched in awe as soldiers clad in uniform stepped off of the ships, armed with the sophisticated weaponry that was to be expected from the most technologically advanced country in Tiallarynn. 

In the interim, however, more people had vanished. Witnesses had actually seen the individual responsible on those occasions, describing a helmet that covered their face. They had seen the culprit carrying their victims away into the sky, indicating an ability to fly. No one had yet been able to stop them.

The general population were becoming more concerned and anxious regarding the kidnappings, exemplified by the fact that the police had seemingly made no progress at all. The increasing fear led to more Nephile attacks, which risked even more lives.

Such was the subject of the news report on the television that Silla was watching. She watched footage of the aftermath of one such attack; the reporter solemnly explaining the details of the attack, and in the background Hunters were helping civilians collect rubble from the streets.

"It's just awful," Silla sighed. "For something as abstract as fear to be enough to attract Nephiles and to bring such danger… I can never get used to how horrifying it is."

"At least no one was killed." Klimt offered. He sat at the table, sharpening his blade Karuma. "Hunters got there in time to save people before it became fatal."

Silla nodded in acknowledgement. "I suppose so."

Morrigan's door swung open, and Morrigan herself ran out, grinning from ear to ear. Her phone was clutched in her hand. "Guess what?!" She exclaimed. "The military's arrived today!"

"We know." Damian said, not looking up from his book.

"And my brother's with them!" Morrigan continued. "He's here!"

"What?" Klimt gasped, rising from his seat. "Flint is here?"

Morrigan nodded rapidly. "Papa messaged me, just now. He said he managed to convince the general to have Flint assigned here. I'm going to go meet him now - are you coming with?"

Klimt nodded and attached his sword back to his belt. Silla turned the television off and rose to her feet. Sighing, Damian put his book down. "Sure, if all of you are going."

Morrigan squealed and ran out of the room, leaving the door open behind her. "M-Morrigan-! Wait…!" Klimt exclaimed, running after her. His own footsteps faded as he ran down the corridor away from the room.

Damian and Silla followed after them to the courtyard. Many students were still gathered there, watching the soldiers leave the airships. A thick crowd separated them from where they could see Morrigan and Klimt. "A lot of people wanted to see them land," Silla commented. "How are we going to get through…?"

"We don't exactly have Morrigan's celeb charm to fall back on." Damian said. "Follow close behind me. Don't get lost."

Damian pushed his way through the crowd of students, Silla following close behind and muttering apologies to everyone they passed. They reached the other side and approached Morrigan and Klimt. Morrigan was standing on her toes and watched the soldiers, eagerly watching out for one in particular. Eventually she gasped and started waving. "Flint! Over here!"

A tall man with brown hair turned towards her upon hearing her voice, smiling when he saw her. He muttered something to another man, who saluted in response, before approaching the four. Flint Astarte was clad in a green uniform, with a green hat sat atop his head.

Morrigan ran to meet him and jumped into his arms, wrapping her own around him tightly. Flint grunted with the force before laughing. "Hey there." He said, ruffling Morrigan's hair. "I take it Dad told you I'd be here?"

Morrigan nodded. "He said he got you transferred especially." She gasped. "Oh! You have to meet my friends!" She took his hand and dragged him closer to the others. "You already know Klimt, obviously. But this is Silla and Damian."

"A pleasure to meet you. I'm Flint - a captain in the UAF." Flint said, offering his hand. Damian shook it, and then Silla. "Morrigan's told me plenty over the phone already. Mostly about how, uh, 'adorable' you both were."

Morrigan giggled. Silla hid her red face behind her hands. Damian turned towards Morrigan sharply, murder in his eyes, although there was an undeniable blush on his own cheeks.

Flint began strolling towards the school, guiding the group away from the crowds. "You guys been settling in okay? I know this can be an overwhelming time. New environment, new people, new routine."

"It's been amazing. I was so scared I'd get awful teammates, and that the professors would be just terrible, but there's been no problems at all!" Morrigan responded. "I got great friends, and the professors are nice too. Silla's brother is one of them, you know."

"Really?" Flint grinned. "Lucky you. Don't let that make you start slacking, though." He looked up, catching sight of someone among the military personnel scattered around the courtyard. "Hey, let me introduce you to someone. Marina!"

A girl with long blonde hair turned at the name, and approached the group. She looked only a few years older than the four, and she wore a green uniform similar to Flint. She stopped in front of the group and saluted to Flint. "Sir." She said.

"Marina," Flint began. "This is my sister Morrigan and her team: Klimt, Silla and Damian." He gestured to Marina. "This is Marina Brunnhilde, my most trusted lieutenant. If at any time you need me but can't get a hold of me, go to her. She's one of our best - she's a prodigy. She might even be better than me."

Marina smiled bashfully. "I wouldn't say even better than you, sir…"

"I mean it. You _did_ graduate from Krimholdt two years early. Not everyone can do that."

Damian turned to Marina. "You did? I've never heard of you, for being a 'prodigy'. Just how good are you?"

Marina smirked at him. "I get the feeling you don't quite believe in me. Do you want a demonstration? I'd be happy to show you, but I would feel a little bad wiping the floor with a newbie…"

Damian glared. "Think of it as training. Besides, I'm stronger than I look."

Marina laughed before turning to Flint. "Permission to step away from my duties to show Damian the ropes, sir?"

"Go ahead. Tell me how it goes." Flint replied. 

Damian turned and walked away in the direction of the training grounds. Marina casually trailed behind him, hands behind her head. Silla fidgeted with her gloves as she watched them walk away. "I should make sure he doesn't get too worked up…" She muttered. She waved at the remaining three before jogging after Damian and Marina.

"You definitely have interesting teammates." Flint commented. "Are they going to be okay? Silla seems delicate, compared to Damian. Can she really handle him?"

"I hope so," Klimt replied. "He definitely has a temper. It's not been as easy as Morrigan makes it out to be…"

"Oh, hush. We're not thinking about bad stuff right now." Morrigan told him. "Hey, Flint, let us give you a tour of the school. We'll show you the gardens, the dining hall, our dorm…"

Flint laughed. "Lead the way." He said. Morrigan took his hand and dragged him to the first location, Klimt following after them.

**\---**

Silla perched on a low wall at the expansive space that was the training grounds - it seemed even bigger now that it was almost empty. It was a large square space; faded white chalk outlined a vague battlefield. Silla didn't really have much interest in observing the upcoming fight; she just wanted to act as peacekeeper in case Damian said something awful to Marina. Which he probably would.

Marina stretched her arms and watched Damian through a single open eye. "What's with the sudden training invitation?" She asked him. "Not that I don't love a good scrap, but do you always challenge people you've just met?"

"If you're as good as the captain says, you're a desirable training target. Not like everyone else around here, who are too weak for my liking." Damian explained.

"Ouch, harsh much? So you have high standards. Or you're just very arrogant." Marina joked. "Well, I'd never pass up an opportunity to show off. Let's get started."

Marina took a short pipe-like object from her belt. With the press of a button, the object extended into a lance, a sharp metal point sticking out of one end. She lowered into a battle stance, both hands gripping her weapon.

Damian activated his own weapon; his backpack opened and all ten swords flew out and hovered around him, awaiting their command.

Marina's eyes widened somewhat. "Impressive - I've never seen anything like that. Now I really want to see what it can do. Gentlemen first."

Three of the swords darted towards Marina. With swift swings of her lance, she swatted them away and charged at Damian. She swung the blade down on him; a metallic _clang_ rang out as two swords intercepted it. One sword rushed to stab at her stomach, and she jumped away to avoid it.

Marina charged again, and Damian flung his arm forward, sending several of the swords hurtling towards her. Marina weaved between them and stabbed forward. Damian stepped to the side, barely managing to avoid the lance's blade. He reached out, grabbing her arm, and a grey sheen flickered over Marina's body.

Marina staggered away, glancing down at herself. "What was that?" She questioned breathlessly. "What did you do?"

Damian smirked, holding up the hand that had grabbed her. "I nullified your Essence with my own. Can't have you pull any tricks to give yourself an advantage."

Marina rose to her full height and flicked a switch near the lance's blade. The blade began to crackle with electricity. She ran at Damian, swinging the lance. He brought two swords up to meet it. They exchanged several blows, metallic _clangs_ ringing out one after the other with a certain rhythm. Damian swung a sword and Marina flipped backwards through the air, avoiding the blade. Marina swung her lance, the electrified blade slashing Damian's abdomen. He winced as the electricity coursed through his body.

He stumbled backwards, drawing his swords closer. He pointed them at Marina, and beams of energy exploded out of the blade tips. Marina jumped from left to right, avoiding the beams, although it was clear that at this stage, approaching Damian for further close combat would be impossible.

Marina flipped her lance into the air; whilst midair, the lance folded into itself and changed shape. By the time Marina reached up to reclaim it, it had shifted into a machine gun. Holding the gun close and aiming its crosshairs at Damian, she pulled the trigger, several bullets flying out of the barrel in quick succession. 

Damian pulled the swords into a circle formation in front of him, blocking the bullets. Once the hailstorm of bullets ended, he pulled the swords slightly apart to peer at his opponent and gauge her next moves.

Except she wasn't there.

Damian gaped wide eyed at the empty space in front of him. He spun to his left, seeing Marina charging towards him at speed, but it was too late to react.

Marina delivered a powerful punch to his left side, knocking the air out of his lungs and sending him off his feet. He crashed into the ground some feet away in a mess of limbs and hovering swords. He groaned as pain and humiliation ebbed through his body.

Marina rose to her full height and stretched her arms. "You're pretty good," she said. "But you insist on maintaining a certain amount of distance from your enemy. That's good sometimes, but what about opponents who are _better_ from a distance? Then, you need to take advantage of that weakness and get closer. Your weapons aren't your _only_ weapons - use your hands and feet to deliver a good punch or kick if they need it."

"Duly noted," Damian groaned.

Silla slid off of the wall and jogged up to Damian. "Are you okay?" She asked, offering a hand.

Damian took her hand and allowed her to help him stand up. "Fine, I guess." He murmured.

Silla took her staff and harnessed the energy of the green Gemstone embedded in it; once the energy had gathered in her hand, she pressed her palm to Damian's left side. "This should get rid of your pain."

Damian nodded to her. "Thanks."

Marina approached the two, smiling. "I mean it, Damian - you're a good fighter, for your age. You're ruthless, not showing your opponent any mercy. That's exactly what Hunters need against Nephiles." She turned to Silla, her smile turning into a mischievous grin. "How about you, Silla? Fancy a go at me?"

Silla smiled nervously, shaking her head. "Ah, no, that's okay… I definitely don't stand a chance, if Damian lost…"

Marina laughed. "Well, your team is in good hands, with you two around. I'd like to see how Morrigan and Klimt fare in a fight one day… Let's go find them."

Marina strolled out of the training grounds. Damian glared at the ground, clenching his fists. "So I'm still too weak…" He muttered.

Silla turned to him. "Are you okay? Did you say something?"

He hesitated. "No. I'm fine. Let's just go."

Silla nodded, not wanting to press the issue further in case it upset him. They followed after Marina, leaving the training grounds empty behind them.

**\---**

"This is our dorm. Like it?"

Morrigan opened the door to the team's shared apartment. Flint stepped in after her, with Klimt closing the door behind them.

"I was super worried we'd have to share rooms or something. Like, it'd be just awful. But we get our own rooms, and our own bathrooms." Morrigan continued. "Our beds aren't as big as the ones back home, so that's been weird to get used to, but it's not as bad as I thought it would be." She flopped onto the couch. "So, have you been home lately?"

"Not yet, no. But from what I hear from Roza, everyone's doing just fine." Flint replied. "Bertrand went back to work shortly after you went off in the limo - he's always kept so busy." He dug his phone out of his pocket. "Roza sent me some pictures you'll like. Here."

He handed his phone over to the two. The picture on the screen was of two toddlers smiling at the camera - Roza's twins Holly and Jonathon. The next photo was of Roza with her husband Nicholas, both having one of the children on their lap.

"They've grown so fast." Klimt remarked, smiling. "I hope they're not missing us too much."

"They know you'll be back." Flint laughed. He took his phone back, sliding it back into his pocket. His smile faded somewhat. "Listen… There's something I want to talk about with you two. I don't really want to dampen the mood, but it'll bother me otherwise."

"What is it?" Morrigan asked, tilting her head.

"I'm glad you're settling in so well." Flint began. "But is everything really okay? I keep thinking about what Klimt said earlier… About how things haven't been so easy. Is that really true?"

Morrigan glared at Klimt, who recoiled at the sharp look. "I-I don't see the point in hiding it… Maybe Flint can help." He explained before turning back to Flint. "I think what Morrigan means is that the others aren't as open and interactive as she was hoping, and that frustrates her."

Flint nodded. "I did get that impression from them. People are different, Morrigan. Not everyone finds it easy to open up to people, especially when first meeting them."

"But why?" Morrigan complained. "We can't be friends if they don't open up and be nice to us. And I'm trying to help them along - I always initiate the conversations so they don't have to. Silla's not that bad about it; it's Damie that's the real problem. He's been a jerk since day one!"

"To you, you mean." Klimt clarified. "Damian and Morrigan have come to blows more than once… Silla and I do what we can to calm them down, but…"

"I'm sure it's not personal. People with different personalities are bound to clash. It wouldn't be very good if everyone on a team was exactly the same, right? People being different isn't a bad thing." Flint explained. "You just need to be patient. You're as friendly as you are because you trust and like people easily - you don't see a reason not to. Because of it, people trust and like you easier in turn. But Damian and Silla might not be the same way. They might need more time before they're willing to be completely themselves around you, and that's not a bad thing. So that's all you need to do; give them that time."

"But… it's hard…" Morrigan whined. "I just want all of us to be friends. I don't like fighting with Damie… How am I supposed to act now, knowing neither of them trust us?"

"Exactly the same as you were before. Trust isn't immediately given away, Morri - it has to be earned. You have to show people that they can trust you. For people that might have been through a rough time, they might be extra careful about who they trust. But I promise you - once you have that trust, they'll be the most amazing friends you've ever had."

"You sound like you're speaking from experience, Flint." Klimt said.

"Oh, I am. My own team back at Krimholdt was great, except for one - she was the only girl in the team. She was the most pompous and arrogant ass I've ever met." Flint responded. "Always lorded herself above us, and was rude for no reason. I guess being the only girl made her feel like she had to prove herself, or something? We all hated her, but we remained as polite as possible and tried to get along with her. But, eventually… things got better. Taking on deadly missions together can really affect your team dynamic. In those situations, you _have_ to trust each other; there's no time for childish bickering. Over time, she changed, and began to trust us more. She apologised for her behaviour, we accepted her apology, and from then on we became the best of friends. Things weren't perfect - we still had disagreements sometimes. But it was all about growth, and learning to work together." He smiled. "So just keep going as you are. Those barriers will break down eventually. Besides," He ruffled Morrigan's hair. "How can anyone resist your charms for long?"

Morrigan giggled. "Thanks, Flint. You're so good at giving pep talks and cheering people up! Come on, let me show you this cute little garden I found the other day!"

Jumping up from her seat, Morrigan flung the door open and walked out. Flint and Klimt followed after her, but before Klimt could run to catch up to her, Flint grabbed his arm and kept the younger man walking at his own pace. "Keep an eye on her for me, okay?" Flint asked. "I know you already do, but… I don't want her getting into any trouble and falling into the wrong crowd again."

Klimt nodded. "It's a miracle she still actively wants to trust people… It's definitely going to keep me on my toes." He chuckled humourlessly.

"I'm not worried about that Silla girl. She seems a good sort. But does Damian seem like a bad kid to you?" Flint questioned. "I know you don't know him very well yet, but just based on your first impressions."

Klimt considered in silence for a few moments. "No, I don't think so." He eventually answered. "He's prickly, rude and clearly doesn't think much of Morrigan, but I don't think he's _evil_. I think he's a good person deep down, and nothing like-"

Klimt was cut off by Flint raising a finger, using his other hand to touch his earpiece. "Marina?" He said, turning away. "Slow down - what's going on?" He stopped, listening intently. Klimt heard a muffled voice that was presumably Marina on the other end, but couldn't make out what was being said.

Flint's eyes widened. "What?" He gasped. He paused to listen. "Gather everyone who can fight. Send everyone else into hiding. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"What's going on?" Klimt asked as Flint set off at a sprint down the hallway - Klimt ran to keep up.

"Nephiles. The bastards are swarming the city." Flint replied. "They'll be at the school if we don't get rid of them."

Klimt's stomach dropped. "Morrigan," He muttered. "Damian, Silla - they're all out there…!"

Flint and Klimt bolted through the hallways and down the flights of stairs. They emerged into the courtyard and charged towards the city, weapons in hand.


	9. Defending the City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Answering the call to arms, the group of Hunters and students rush to Ardepolis to stop the impending Nephile invasion, while an enigmatic figure watches from above...

The air in Ardepolis rippled with screams, shouts and the cries of the monsters that were engulfing it. People were running away from the imminent danger, guided by the soldiers clad in green. Bodies of the less fortunate lay scattered in pools of blood on the streets. The soldiers were firing at the Nephiles; some fell, but others merely shrugged the bullets off and continued their approach.

Klimt froze at the sight of the blood and the deceased that lay in them. They were already too late; innocent people were already dead. His chest suddenly felt very tight.

"Hey, stay with me." Flint's voice cut through the haze that was threatening to muddle Klimt's brain. "I'll need your help here. Stay close."

Flint drew his pistols from his belt, pointed them at a swarm of Bonvue and opened fire. Several of them growled at the onslaught of bullets and charged towards him. Klimt intercepted them, swinging his blade at their heads and stomachs. They collapsed to the ground, a dark mist dissipating from their wounds.

Flint saw a shadow begin to descend upon him. Quickly holstering his guns, he turned around and saw a Bonvue pouncing on him, jaw wide open to expose sharp teeth. He grabbed its open jaw with both hands, forcing its mouth to stay wide open. With a cry, Flint swung it to the side, sending it crashing into another Bonvue that had been closing in on a civilian; they both smashed into a wall. Before either of them could stand back up, Flint drew his pistols and unleashed a storm of bullets into them.

"Klimt! Flint!"

Both men turned at Morrigan's voice. They saw her there, along with Silla, Damian, Marina, the Cricland faculty and a grey haired boy that seemed familiar to Klimt. All of them had their weapons prepared.

"Nice to see you all here." Flint said, nodding to them. "No time to chat; we need to drive these things out quickly. Stay close to each other, and help each other out. Let's go!"

A shrill cry pierced the air; Morrigan winced and covered her ears with her hands. Looking up, the group saw a giant crow-like Nephile, known as a Breanna, perched on top of a building. The Breanna looked down at the carnage, spotting the group of people below it. Flapping its wings, it rose into the air.

"Leave that to me." Dravena announced, taking an arrow out of her quiver. She ran towards a nearby building, disappearing within the depths of the building.

More Bonvue pounded towards the group. Dove ran to meet them, her escrima sticks in hand and flashing with electricity. She swung the sticks at the Bonvue, sending the electricity coursing through their bodies. They growled and grumbled in pain as they were trapped in place, unable to move. Damian rushed forward, sending his swords flying towards the paralysed Nephiles. The swords sliced through them, their bodies and legs flying apart in two parts before collapsing to the ground.

Ianto channelled his Essence - the amplification of his voice - before singing a note into his microphone. The surrounding Bonvue flinched at the sound, shaking their heads in pain and confusion. Morrigan approached, her axe ready, and with a simple nod they seemed to communicate to each other what they should do. Gripping their weapons the two charged forward and swung their weapons, slicing and bashing the stunned Bonvue into submission.

Dravena emerged on the rooftop of the building she had entered. The Breanna was circling the city below it, its eyes scanning the ground for a suitable target. It seemed to lock on to someone below; it flew higher before starting to descend at speed. Dravena nocked an arrow in her bow - the arrowhead had a yellow, crystalline shine to it. She released the arrow just before the Nephile passed by her, and it flew through the air, digging into the monster. The Breanna let out a pained screech as electricity coursed through its body. It fell to the ground with a giant tremor, unable to flap its wings. Elas rushed towards it, his sword flashing with fire, stabbing the blade deep into the Breanna's body, drawing another shriek from the monster.

A distinct _clicking_ noise disrupted the chaos. It quickly got louder, almost to a deafening degree. The group of Hunters momentarily froze as they glanced around in search of the noise. A hoard of swiftly approaching shapes answered their bewilderment. Marina's shoulders sagged at the sight. "Crap," she whispered.

A swarm of Armaduras were drawing closer. A species of Nephile resembling spiders, armour covered their bodies which glinted in the sun. Their eight legs moved rapidly, quickly carrying them across the ground towards their prey on the streets. Each of their eight eyes were focused on the targets before them.

Morrigan shrieked, her axe clattering to the ground. "Wh-What are those?" She asked breathlessly. She stumbled backwards, and Klimt stepped in front of her, holding Karuma before him. He ran to meet one of the spiders, and swung his sword down onto its body; the metal clashed loudly. Time seemed to freeze as Klimt realised that his sword hadn't even scratched it. The Armaduras' eight eyes glanced at him before raising a leg and swatting Klimt away. Klimt landed and rolled across the ground, his sword dropping next to him. The spider chattered as though laughing at him.

The Armaduras' eyes rolled over to stare at Morrigan, locking in on her fear, before walking over to her. Morrigan's legs felt like lead as she backed away helplessly - why couldn't she move any faster? The Armaduras was so close, she could see the sharp fangs in its mouth.

The spider was suddenly swallowed by a stream of fire, and it stumbled backwards in a daze as a squeal left its mouth. The fire cleared to reveal Silla standing in front of Morrigan, the Fire Gemstone in her staff glowing. The Armaduras shook itself off, but otherwise appeared unharmed.

"Physical attacks won't do anything to these things!" Marina called over the chaos. "But their stomachs aren't protected by any armour. Find some way to flip them over! Anyone got any Air Gemstones?"

"There's no need." Silla responded, her voice still and calm. She flung her arm upwards, and a strong gust of wind blew out from under the Armaduras, sending it flying into the air. It landed back on the ground on its back, its legs flailing wildly in an effort to right itself. Klimt leapt onto its stomach and stabbed his sword into it. The spider screeched before its flailing legs eventually came to a stop.

"Nice going!" Marina cheered, grinning. "Think you can do that for the others?"

Silla nodded. "Of course."

They got to work on the remaining Armaduras - Silla used her Essence to create gusts of wind to blow the spiders into the air, and Marina, Vennox and Ash delivered the killing blow to their exposed stomachs. 

"Is that the last of them…?" Morrigan asked, her voice barely above a whisper. On shaky legs, she reached down for her axe. "They were awful…"

"Don't relax just yet," Flint warned her. "We've still got the big bastard to get rid of."

The Breanna was circling the city in the air once again, its paralysis having since worn off. Its ghastly shriek pierced the air. The beating of its wings sent powerful gusts of wind through the city. Several of the Hunters struggled to stay on their feet.

Damian flew up to meet it, using two of his swords as thrusters to propel him forward. The Breanna noticed him approaching and dived for him. Damian flung four swords into its body; at the same time, another electric arrow from Dravena stabbed into it. The Breanna screeched and fell to the ground again. Damian tugged on the strings of the swords and heaved the Breanna to the ground, sending it falling at a faster speed.

Marina watched it fall, charging towards where it would land. She punched her two fists together, and her body became engulfed in a green glow. Her steps became faster, and just before the Breanna crashed into the ground, Marina jumped towards it and punched its body with a resounding _crack_. The giant bird was sent flying further down the street, knocking into street lights on the way. 

Preparing his sword Laevatein, Elas charged at the monster, jumping into the air above it. On his descent, he swung Laevatein down onto the Breanna's neck, cutting through it and separating its head from its body. The Nephile's body fell limp, and black mist descended out of the giant wound.

The glow around Marina's body vanished as she deactivated her Essence, and she sighed as a wave of fatigue hit her. "Nice going, everyone." She congratulated the group. "That was good work."

"But… those people…" Klimt muttered, his eyes wandering over to the blood and the bodies again. "We were too late for them…"

"But we managed to prevent any further casualties. Focus on that." Flint told him. "We'll take care of the cleanup here. You should go back to the school and get some rest. Marina, make sure they get home okay."

"Yes, sir." Marina saluted before turning to the five students. "Let's go, before it gets too dark."

Klimt was reluctant to leave, but was dragged away by the hand thanks to Morrigan. Marina engaged the five in lighthearted conversation while they walked, in an effort to lighten the mood, but the group still felt rather unsettled after what they had seen.

A figure stood on top of a building and watched them go. Apex stared at the group, having recorded the whole fight from their place high above the violence. Their master would be interested in this - in more potential subjects. When the group disappeared from their sight, Apex turned and launched themselves into the air, beginning the long flight back to their master.

**\---**

“That was intense,” Morrigan commented, dropping into a seat in the living room of the apartment. She had just stepped out of the shower; her hair was wrapped in a towel, and she had changed into a pink frilly night dress. “Intense and scary and awful. How can people do this stuff every day?”

“At least we helped to save innocent people.” Silla told her. “A lot more people would have gotten hurt if we hadn’t helped. I know some people got hurt…” She glanced at Klimt; she knew he wasn’t taking that news well. “But we stopped more people from meeting the same fate, and that should be celebrated.”

There was a light knock on the door. Morrigan rose to answer it. “Oh! Flint! And Marina!” She gasped, and stepped aside to let the two into the room. She closed the door after them. Flint took a seat on the sofa, while Marina stayed standing, leaning against the wall and crossing her arms.

“We just thought we’d swing by before heading back to our hotel.” Flint explained. “I wanted to say how great you guys were back there. You’re new students, but you still handled that fight like a real team. You should be proud of yourselves.”

“You shouldn’t have had to get involved, though.” Marina lamented with a frown. “You’ve just gotten to school - still kids. You should be in classes and learning through training, not immediately getting thrown into the deep end. The big bad work should be left up to us.”

Damian shrugged. “I think it’s better that way. We should get real experience in the field as much as possible. That kind of thing can’t come from some book. It’ll make us stronger in the long run.”

“I guess we’ll agree to disagree on that point.” Marina said.

“Besides, you’re not that much older than us!” Morrigan exclaimed. “Didn’t Flint say that you graduated two years early? So if you can do it, so can we!”

Marina laughed. “Feel free to try, by all means. I won’t shy away from testing how far you’ve come. Just remember what happened to Damian before you make that decision.”

Marina and Morrigan laughed together, while Damian turned a furious red. After checking that the four were alright and unharmed, Flint and Marina said their goodbyes and left the room, closing the door behind them.

Morrigan suddenly shuddered. “Ugh, I just remembered those spider things… They were the worst. I’m going to have nightmares tonight, I just know it. It was _this_ close to me - I was so scared, I couldn’t move an inch. I never want to see them again.”

Damian smirked to himself, seeing an opportunity. “The ones you saw today were actually quite small.” He told her. “Adult Armaduras can grow to be around the same size as three double decker buses on top of each other.”

Morrigan froze, her eyes wide. “Seriously?” She whispered breathlessly.

“That’s not true,” Silla cut in. “Damian is just teasing. They’re only a little bit bigger than the ones we saw today.”

Morrigan took one of the cushions from the sofa and threw it at Damian. “Damie-! You totally suck…!” She yelled. “You scared me…!”

Damian leaned forward to avoid the cushion aimed at his head. It hit the wall behind him and fell to the ground. “You believed me.” He stated simply. “Everyone knows they don’t grow that big. Everyone except you, apparently.”

Klimt suddenly rose from his seat and crossed the room to his bedroom door. “I’m going to bed.” He told the other three. “Goodnight.” He opened the door, disappearing into his room.

Silla sighed. “Seeing those people that didn’t make it has really affected him…”

“Maybe I should go talk to him?” Morrigan offered, beginning to rise out of her seat.

“Not now. Maybe give him some space for tonight.” Silla suggested. “Let him get some sleep. Try talking to him tomorrow, if he’s still upset.”

Morrigan hesitated before sinking back into her seat. “Okay… I feel bad just leaving him like that, but if you think it’s for the best…”

Eventually, the remaining three parted ways into their own bedrooms to sleep. However, each of them - even Damian - settled into a restless sleep as concerns regarding the wellbeing of their teammate lingered, preventing peaceful slumber.


	10. Guilt and Shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guilt from the previous battle still eats away at Klimt, so his teammates and Marina attempt to lift his spirits; later, under the cover of night, Marina is attacked by a cryptic enemy...

Apex found their master hunched over his work, as was usual.

The subject on his operating table was a young girl; around the same age as the children Apex had been observing in the city attack. Her skin - what remained of it - was pale and lifeless. The metallics attached to her body glinted in the overhead lighting. The master, Mr. Fabricant, was tinkering with the girl's newly attached mechanical leg.

Mr. Fabricant barely looked up from his work as he noticed Apex approaching. "Well?" He demanded. "Did you find anything useful?"

Apex's robotic eye began to display a holographic video in front of them - a video of the attack. The camera was focused on the four children, although it occasionally wandered to the lieutenant woman and the older captain. Mr. Fabricant watched the footage with interest. A smile slowly broke out on his face.

"How wonderful…" He whispered, moving around the table to peer closer at the footage. "How magnificent! Yes, these are all perfect potential subjects! And so many to choose from…! I want all of them for my little collection!"

Mr. Fabricant turned to call over his shoulder. "Don't take just whoever you find anymore. Focus on the people in this video. They're strong, fast, capable - I can make them even better than before." He turned back to the video, muttering to himself. "I'll focus on one for now… To see if they really are as good as they look. The rest can come later if I'm satisfied. But which one shall I choose…? Play it again."

Apex played the video again, from the beginning. Mr. Fabricant rewatched the footage with narrow eyes, mumbling to himself all the while. "Pause it." He demanded.

Apex obeyed. The displayed image was somewhat blurry due to the fast-paced movements of the subjects of the video. On the image, a mixture of yellow and green in the vague shape of a person could be seen. They were frozen in the air, a green glow covering their body as they punched another larger blurry shape. Mr. Fabricant nodded.

"That one," he said. "Get me this one, by tonight. She is going to be my next project."

Apex nodded obediently. 

**\---**

Morrigan found it difficult to pay attention to Nephile Biology that day, considering Professor Sardonyx had chosen to base her lecture around the Breanna and Armaduras species. They had moved past the giant bird, and had moved on to the giant spiders. Just what Morrigan needed - not.

Silla was diligently taking notes. Damian occasionally put pen to paper, but mostly listened while resting his face in his hand. Klimt stared down at the desk vacantly.

Morrigan frowned as she watched him. He was in the room, but mentally he was miles away. She ripped a corner from her notebook and scribbled a message on it.

_'Are you okay? You're spacing out'_

She slipped the paper to him and turned back to the front of the room to at least pretend like she was paying attention.

The paper eventually returned to her. She glanced down at the response.

_'I'm fine'_

Morrigan suppressed a frustrated huff and picked up her pen.

_'You're clearly not. If Professor Sardonyx catches you, she'll call on you! XD'_

She slipped the scrap back to him. It returned seconds later.

_'I mean it. I'm fine. Pay attention to the professor.'_

She frowned. If she knew Klimt well enough - and she did - this back and forth would continue for ages with no progress. She gave up talking to him and waited for class to end.

When the class was dismissed, the four walked to lunch. Conversation was limited to small talk. Eventually Morrigan put her plan into action.

"Hey, so study period is next, but I don't really feel like going." She told them. "Will you guys skip with me? We could do something fun instead!"

"Like what?" Damian questioned. "You know that you skipping it all the time is why you don't know anything, right?"

"All we've done lately is work! We need to take some time to relax and socialise!" Morrigan insisted. "We need something to unwind and take our minds off of things, and I just so happen to have the perfect solution that can help us with that."

Damian rolled his eyes, seemingly dismissing the idea. Silla, however, seemed to catch on to what Morrigan was attempting. "I think it's a wonderful idea," she said. "Let's all go." She turned to Damian, placing her hand over his. "Please?" 

Damian hesitated before sighing. "Fine, okay. If you guys really want to."

Grinning, Morrigan led them back to their apartment. She asked the others - and by 'asked', she essentially forced them - to take their seats on the sofa in front of the television. Once they were all seated, Morrigan turned on the television and began flicking through the channels.

"What are you doing?" Damian asked, unable to handle the suspense for much longer.

"I want to introduce you and Silla to a show Klimt and I love to watch. What could be better than sitting together with friends, watching good TV?" Morrigan asked. "You'll love it, I promise. It's so good." Once she had found what she was looking for, she joined them on the sofa, next to Silla.

As such, the four found themselves sitting together on the sofa, watching the revered programme. They watched several episodes, and throughout it all Morrigan leaned forward to glance at Klimt occasionally. He smiled at some of the jokes, but otherwise maintained a glum expression. Morrigan felt her heart sink at her failed plan.

"Let me talk to him," Silla whispered to her, leaning over to her. "I know you're worried about him. We are too, even if Damian doesn't really show it. I'm sure Klimt appreciates you trying to make him feel better. Let me help."

Morrigan nodded slowly. "Okay… Alright. I feel like you'll know just what to say." A pause. "Should Damie and I give you some space?" She asked, wincing.

"That may be for the best." Silla responded. "Damian may say something that would make everything worse."

Morrigan nodded and rose, turning to Damian. "Hey, Damie! Why don't we, uh…" She paused, searching her brain for a reasonable excuse. "Why don't you... help me practice my ballroom dancing?"

"What?" Damian snapped. "Why?"

"Because I want to! And I need to practice! And you're the only one who can help me, because it's better with someone taller than me." She grabbed his wrist and tugged him away. She dragged him away from where Klimt and Silla were sitting.

"Okay, Damie, first things first, we need to get into the right position." Morrigan began. She took one of his hands in hers, and placed her other hand on his shoulder. "Now you need to put your other hand on my hip."

Damian flushed pink. "I'm not doing that." He insisted, and tried to stumble out of her grip.

"Don't be a baby and just do it!" Morrigan exclaimed. "What, are you embarrassed about touching my hip? It's not like I'm shoving your hand down my shirt or anything."

While they devolved into arguing with each other, Silla moved closer to Klimt. "Hello," she whispered to him. "How are you holding up?"

Klimt jumped at the sudden address. "Oh, um…" He cleared his throat. "Fine. I'm fine."

"You don't have to say that if that's not how you feel. You can talk to us about however you feel. If it's about those people that got hurt… we all feel the same way." Silla assured him. "I won't force you to if you don't want to - I know we haven't known each other for very long. But I just wanted to say it, so you knew."

Klimt was silent for a few moments. It was true that he was somewhat reluctant to trust others - he felt that he could only ever really be himself around Morrigan. But maybe opening up to someone else wasn't a bad idea. He had been resistant to the concept before, when Morrigan pestered him about it, but now that he was considering it again, it didn't sound so bad. Silla seemed like a nice person; not the type to laugh at anything he wanted to say.

"I just… feel awful that we didn't manage to save them." Klimt told her. "If we couldn't get there in time now, what are we going to be like when we graduate? Are we going to be any better, or will we still fail at our jobs?"

Silla nodded. "It's normal to feel guilty after experiencing something like that. However, it's important that you don't blame yourself, or hold yourself responsible. If you do, those feelings will just eat you up inside." She paused before continuing. "As awful as this might sound, it helps to turn something bad into something good. For example, we can use that fight as a learning experience. By remembering what we did wrong, we can learn from that and stop it from happening again, so no more people lose their lives. That's what my brother taught me, when I expressed similar guilt."

Klimt smiled slightly. "That sounds like something my brother would say, too." He muttered, more to himself than to Silla. He turned towards the girl. "Thanks, Silla. I'll try to remember all of that."

"I'm glad I could help, even if it was just a little." Silla smiled back. "It's not nice having to watch someone else agonise over something."

"So that's what all this is about." Klimt said, gesturing to the television. "I did wonder why Morrigan dragged us here for this…"

"She wanted to help you feel better. I suppose she's the type of person who believes actions speak louder than words." Silla theorised.

Klimt laughed. "That definitely sounds like her."

They glanced towards Morrigan and her unwilling dance partner. She noticed that they had finished their conversation, and walked over to them. "Damie's not bad, you know! He has nice footwork - once I told him what to do with his feet. He got so embarrassed at having to stand so close to me and hold my hip! He's so cute when flustered like that."

Damian simply grunted in response and turned away, arms crossed over his chest. The blush was still present on his face.

"So? Did Silla help?" Morrigan asked, turning to Klimt.

Klimt nodded. "Yeah. You did too, you know. I know you did all of this to try and make me feel better."

Morrigan shrugged. "Oh, well, you know… Anything for my best friend and little brother!" She flung herself down onto the sofa next to him and threw her arms around him, pulling him close for a tight hug.

"L-Little? You know we're around the same height, right?" Klimt argued. "At least I am when you're not wearing those huge heels…"

A knock on the door interrupted the moment. Silla left her seat to answer it, opening the door. Marina stood on the other side, offering a smile to the four. "Afternoon," she greeted. Her mouth hung open, whatever words she was planning to speak stuck in her throat as her eyes wandered over to Damian. "You alright there?" She asked. "You're awfully red."

"He's just embarrassed because I asked him to dance with me!" Morrigan exclaimed in a sing-song voice. "How he had to hold my hand, and my hip, and stand reaaaaally close to me-"

"Will you stop talking about that?" Damian snapped. "Don't say that to just anyone who walks in!"

Marina laughed. "It's okay; I promise not to tell the captain you had your hands on his little sister." She laughed more at Damian's deepening blush. "In all seriousness, though, he asked me to come by and check on you guys." She continued, stepping into the room. "He's busy right now, so he sent me here in his place. I know yesterday was rough. It always is for first timers."

"We're fine! Just needed a little R&R to get ourselves back on our feet." Morrigan replied.

"Good idea. You should always take a break after a big fight like that - after a big anything, really. So you can face the next big thing with all of your strength." Marina advised. "Even I take some time out for myself sometimes, hard as that might be to believe."

Damian tutted. "That's all fine until you fall behind everyone else because you were slacking. Then you're the weakest of the lot, and that's when you get yourself killed."

"You also get yourself killed by working yourself to the bone and being too exhausted to stand your ground when you need to." Marina countered. "Looks like you'll need one of your friends to make sure you rest up properly when you need to."

Klimt suddenly rose from his seat, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. Silence lingered as he was apparently mustering up the courage to say something. Eventually, he muttered, "Um, Lieutenant Brunnhilde-"

"Marina, please," the blonde insisted, raising a hand to stop him. "Hearing that from people younger than me makes me feel so old."

"O-Okay, then, Marina…" Klimt cleared his throat. "Could you… I mean, would it be possible for you to help me? With my training, I mean? So I can get stronger… and protect people. You’re so strong and capable, so… I figured you would be the best person to ask..."

Marina's eyes widened somewhat, but her surprise gave way to a small smile. "Sure thing," she agreed. "I'm always happy to help. Be warned that I don't tend to go easy on people, though."

"That's fine." Klimt nodded. "It's better that way… or else I won't learn."

"Catch up with me tomorrow, will you? Whenever you’re not busy. Come and find me and we’ll get started. You three can feel free to come along as well, if you want to.” Marina rose from her seat and stretched her arms above her head. “Well, I’ve done my job and checked on you. I’ll get out of your hair now, but remember to come to me about anything if you need me, okay?”

After saying their goodbyes to each other, Marina left the four. “She’s so nice,” Morrigan commented to fill the silence that followed. “I’m definitely tagging along tomorrow, Klimt. Totally not to watch her beat you up or anything.”

Klimt rolled his eyes. “Very funny.” He reached for the television remotes and switched the television off. “I’m going to do some studying, since you made us skip our scheduled study earlier.” He explained.

“But studying is so boring! And it’s hard!” Morrigan argued. “Can’t we just continue hanging out…?”

“We can take another break after studying for a little while. We’d be happy to help you if you get stuck.” Silla offered. “Right, Damian?”

Damian shrugged. “Sure, whatever. Just don’t get used to me helping you. It’s not like I want to.”

Morrigan sighed. “Okay, okay, fine. I can’t say no if all three of you are begging me…”

**\---**

Night fell on the school, throwing the campus into darkness save for the lights that still shone from inside the building. Some students were evidently still awake despite the late hour. Marina vaguely wondered if that included her new little friends. Morrigan definitely seemed like a night owl.

She was patrolling the main courtyard of the school alone. They were supposed to travel in pairs at the minimum, but Marina insisted that she patrol alone that night so her fellow soldiers could get a good night's sleep for a change. After a lecture from Flint to 'be extra careful' - how old did he think she was? - she began her stroll around the school.

It was a chilly night, which she hated. She shivered as the breeze attacked her skin and ruffled through her hair. She had definitely felt worse - her native Ustrad had enough snow for the rest of the world. She had often laughed at the irony; how she was born into the coldest continent yet couldn't stand the cold. The cold on this night definitely made her regret signing up for the nighttime shift, however.

_I should be thankful for such a relaxing job,_ she told herself. _This is the most peaceful assignment I've had since I signed up._

Hands resting behind her head, she looked up at the main building as she passed it. Being back at an academy certainly brought back memories of her own school days. She only attended Krimholdt for three years instead of the regular five; that made her something of a special case, as people rarely if ever graduated early. Even after enlisting for the Ustrad military, she had risen to the rank of lieutenant extremely quickly, while for others it would have taken years.

Some might have called her arrogant, but she did have the background and skills to back it up.

Marina’s thoughts were interrupted by her shadow growing larger. **Move,** something told her. **Move now.**

In a flash, she jumped to the side, falling into a roll across the ground. She propped herself up on her knee and glanced back to where she had just been standing.

She saw an individual wearing a helmet that had a visor covering their face. Their head turned slowly towards her; she could barely see eyes blankly staring at her through the glass. A double edged sword was stuck into the ground where Marina had been standing moments before, cracking the concrete. Apex rose to their feet, pulling the sword out of the ground, and faced her. They said nothing.

Marina drew her lance. “Who are you?” She demanded.

Silence. Apex only stared.

“Not a talker, huh? So you won’t tell me why you just tried to kill me?” Marina asked. 

She received nothing in response. Nothing but Apex slowly rising into the air, a purple energy spilling out of the bottom of their feet, pushing them off of the ground. They pointed their sword at Marina. She rolled her eyes and sighed - she really hadn’t been expecting a fight tonight, and could really have done without one, as much as she normally loved a good challenge.

The two charged towards each other.


	11. Close Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discussions regarding the future of teaching at Cricland are increasing in intensity; the faculty are split on what their next course of action should be. Meanwhile, the four, Marina and Flint discuss the culprit behind the kidnappings and what their goal could be...

Their weapons clashed, and Marina glared into her opponent's eyes, who displayed no emotion in response. Her eyes wandered down to a metal plate on their neck, which displayed '001 - Apex'.

"So, that's your name, is it? Apex?" She asked. "Still not up for a civil conversation?"

Apex responded by raising their sword into the air before swinging it down. Marina brought up her lance to meet it, and while their blades were locked, she raised her foot and kicked their shin. Pain shot through her leg, a curse escaping her lips. Her stance faltered, which Apex used to deliver a punch to her ribs. Marina stumbled backwards, internally cursing herself - normally she would be able to avoid a blow like that. Why had she not been able to knock Apex over with that kick?

Apex swung again. Marina stepped back to avoid it, and swung her lance into their abdomen. There was no reaction from Apex; no cry of pain, no wince. The blade tore through their jacket, revealing metal underneath.

She lunged and slashed again, and again, and again. When her lance did bypass their sword, the blade merely clanged against metal. Most of Apex seemed to be made of metal. All the while, the neutral expression on Apex's face never faded.

Marina pressed a button on her lance, and it compressed itself into its machine gun form. Raising the gun to her shoulder, Marina squeezed the trigger, unleashing a flurry of bullets towards Apex. They calmly approached her through the assault, barely acknowledging the projectiles. Most of the bullets bounced off harmlessly after hitting metal.

Marina lowered her gun and frowned - clearly normal physical attacks were having no effect on this person. She doubted Apex was even a person; some kind of robot seemed to be a better description. They were incredibly physically strong, on top of their Vitality protecting them. 

Apex began to rise, hovering in the air before swooping low, charging through the ordinarily still night air. Marina prepared her lance as Apex swiftly advanced. They swung their sword down onto Marina’s neck. Just before the swing, Marina leapt forward, turning her upper body to face Apex. She swung her lance into the other side of their abdomen. The blade ripped Apex’s clothes, exposing skin underneath.

So, not exactly a robot.

Marina saw no quick end to this scuffle. Apex could succeed in killing her, if they really were able to withstand so many attacks without obtaining damage. Worse, if Apex grew bored, they may abandon the fight altogether and search for an easier victim - either someone else patrolling the school, or one of the students.

She had to end this quickly. She would have to pull out her greatest weapon.

Rising to her full height, Marina punched her fists together, igniting the green glow over her body. Instantly she felt the change; she felt stronger, invigorated, revitalised. She charged towards Apex, her feet slamming against the ground. The world around her became nothing but a blur.

Apex raised their sword and swung, but Marina moved around it and punched their abdomen. Apex stumbled. Marina didn’t pause for even a second - she punched them again and again, anywhere she could find. Apex staggered backwards with each blow, their sword clattering to the ground. For the first time, Marina saw an emotion in their eyes.

Pain.

With a punch to their stomach, a pink energy shimmered over Apex’s body. Marina gasped - this was the Vitality’s way of warning the individual that their Vitality was running low, that their shield had almost shattered and would no longer be able to protect them. Apex’s vitality was reaching that threshold.

Marina reached back, and with a cry, swung her fist forward, catching Apex square in the chest. Apex was launched backwards off of their feet, falling through the air before collapsing in a heap on the ground. Their landing threw up dirt and grass. Their Vitality, now a weakened pink, flashed and glistened around their body before fizzling out and disappearing.

Marina did not deactivate her Essence just yet - she had forty more seconds before it would deactivate itself. In that time, Apex could launch another attack, despite being weakened.

But they didn’t. They remained curled on the ground, struggling to rise to their feet. Once they were standing on albeit shaky legs, they slowly approached. Marina raised her fists again, but watched as Apex simply leaned down to grab their sword. 

Sword in hand, Apex rose into the air, turned away from Marina and soared away. Marina watched them as they eventually became but a dot in the sky, indistinguishable from a star.

Deactivating her Essence, Marina exhaled as the fatigue hit her like a wave, her body sagging. Though her arm felt like lead, she reached for her phone and dialled Flint's number. 

_"Marina?"_ Flint began. He sounded groggy. _"What's wrong?"_

"I've just been attacked." Marina told him. "I think by the person behind all these kidnappings."

**\---**

Damian awoke to the sound of persistent pounding on his door. Again.

Before he had even dragged himself out of bed, he knew who it was that was so desperately trying to get his attention. He opened the door. "What?"

"Good morning to you, too, Mr. Grumpy Butt." Morrigan said. "There was another attack last night. Whoever's been taking people attacked Marina!"

"Oh. Is she okay?"

"Well, yeah, Flint said she wasn't hurt. But we're still going to see her, so be ready in an hour!"

Damian sighed and shut the door. He later emerged from his room, and the four went to breakfast. When they had finished eating, they left school grounds and walked into the city. Morrigan led the way to the hotel where her brother and Marina were staying. They caught sight of the two in the hotel lobby.

"I told you, sir, I'm perfectly fine," Marina was saying, strolling towards the hotel entrance. "There's not a scratch on me. I'm ready to go out and do all of it again."

"Even so-" Flint began to object, but stopped upon seeing his sister and her friends approaching. "Oh, morning, you four. Get a good night's sleep?"

"We're fine. We want to hear more about what happened!" Morrigan told him. "So what did happen? Who was it?"

"Not here. We can't talk about it here." Flint cut her off, glancing around him. "Let's go up to my room. There won't be anyone to overhear us then."

The group entered the elevator, which stopped at the third floor. Flint led them to his room, swiping his card against the card reader and opening the door. Once everyone had entered, he walked into the room and closed the door behind him.

"So? What happened?" Morrigan asked.

"I was doing my patrol around Cricland when they attacked." Marina began. "I tried talking to them, but I didn't get any kind of response. They wore a helmet with a visor, so I didn't see their face properly. None of my attacks did anything to them, either. Almost everything I hit was metal. I managed to fend them off, and after I immediately called the captain to tell him. He told me to come back here to rest up, while he took over."

"She did get a name, though, or something close to it." Flint continued. "Some kind of metal plate on their neck had 'Apex' on it, along with the number '001'."

"001…" Damian repeated. "That sounds like it means the first. As in Apex is the first of its kind."

"So… there are more?" Silla asked.

"Or there will be more in the future." Damian looked up. "Maybe that's why all of these people are going missing; to create others like Apex. To create other mechanically advanced cyborgs."

"And whoever is making them expects to make at least as many as one hundred, if the 001 is anything to go by." Marina added.

"There's something else," said Damian. "All of the people taken so far have been relatively young - early twenties to teenagers; some of which are in combat training. Whoever is doing this is looking for young, presumably healthy and physically fit people."

"So…" Morrigan glanced around. "What does all that mean?"

Silence momentarily hung in the air. Eventually, Klimt's eyes widened. "Could they be making an army?"

Flint nodded. "That's definitely possible. An army of cyborgs created from healthy young people, perhaps to fight for whatever cause this person believes in. Apex was their first creation, and is the one being used to collect other potential subjects."

"So… I could have been taken last night. Taken and turned into some robotic freak." Marina muttered, shuddering. "I'm lucky to have escaped unharmed, let alone with all my fleshy limbs attached."

"But you didn't! Think about that! You managed to get away, and you're here with us now!" Morrigan exclaimed. "I bet you beat the crap out of them, and that scared them enough to not come back, at least for a while!"

Marina laughed. "We can always hope, huh?" Her smile fell away, her tone becoming grave. "But seriously, I mean it when I say you guys shouldn't slack in your classes and training. Real danger seems so far away now, but it could jump out at you when you least expect it. If this Apex comes back for you, and no one else is around… you'll be on your own. It'll be up to you to escape."

"B-But… we're just kids. Like, we're barely a few weeks into proper fighting school. If someone like you barely escaped, how would we?" Morrigan asked.

"I don't think you'll have to worry too much, as long as you stay in your group when out and about." Flint assured her. "So far, Apex has targeted people walking alone, and typically at night. So stick together, and always be armed. If this Apex comes for you, fight for your life to get away."

Morrigan rubbed her arms, looking back and forth between the two soldiers. Klimt stepped closer to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry. I'll protect you. I won't let anything happen to you."

Morrigan smiled and threw her arms around him, making him stumble. “You’re so sweet, Klimt!” She grinned, before gasping and pulling back. She nudged Klimt towards Marina. “Oh, but weren’t you guys supposed to start training today? Are you still going to? I want to see!”

“Morrigan,” Klimt began, using the lecturing tone he had used on her many times before. “You can’t possibly expect Lieutenant Brunnhilde to agree to something like that after-”

“Let’s do it!” Klimt jumped in surprise as Marina’s chipper voice cut him off. “I could do with a good scrap to blow off some steam. Losing a fight is always pretty humiliating… but I’ll be right as rain after a crushing victory.”

“B-But…” Klimt stuttered. He sighed, resigning himself to the fact that it would be impossible to argue back against the two pairs of enthusiastic eyes boring into him. “Okay. Only because it will help me get stronger.”

“That’s what I like to hear!” Marina exclaimed. “Come on, let’s head out. These stuffy hotel rooms make me restless.”

Marina left the room, Morrigan and an unwilling Klimt trailing behind her. The noise from their chattering faded out as they walked away from the room.

"Well, there they go." Flint laughed. "They practically forgot about you two." He turned to Silla and Damian. "You'll probably want to follow after them, so I won't keep you. But remember what Marina said - keep up with your training, and never go anywhere alone. It's already dangerous out there, but no one's exactly prepared for something like this."

The two said their goodbyes to the older man and left the hotel. The other three were nowhere to be found; they were presumably already ahead on their way back to Cricland. "What should we do now?" Silla asked.

Damian grunted. "Well, I was actually going to get some training in, but those guys will be taking it up for who knows how long."

"Klimt was really shaken up by what happened the other day… I'm at least glad he's turning it into a learning opportunity." Silla said. 

Damian shrugged. "Good for him. It's about time he stopped sulking. It was getting weird."

Silla smiled to herself - she knew well enough by now that showing emotions like concern was not Damian's strong suit, and that comments of such kind were the best he was going to manage. She could still tell that he was worried about his teammate, deep down. Some people would have found it impossible to tell, but Silla could see it.

"I'm going to do some studying for Biology." Damian announced, changing the subject. "Because one of us has to pass the tests, and it won't be Morrigan. Where are you going to go now? Are you going to go watch Klimt get his ass handed to him?"

Silla suppressed a laugh. "No. I think I'll go see my brother. But after that… could I join you? Staying on track with our studying is just as important as our training, after all."

Damian watched her out of the corner of his eye, hoping she didn't notice how, in his surprise, he nearly tripped on a crack in the pavement. She wanted to study with him? Willingly wanted to spend time around him, instead of their friendlier teammates? Even though he's been nothing but a jerk to everyone this whole time?

_Stop overthinking it,_ he scolded himself. _This is Silla you're talking about. She's just nice like that to everyone. Even those that don't deserve it._

Silla noticed the hesitation and turned to him, frowning. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing." He eventually said. "It's just… No, nevermind. Sure you can. Study with me, I mean."

He said nothing after that, and they continued their walk back to the academy in silence. Silla was still bewildered about his behaviour - something was clearly bothering him, but what could she say or do to help? Was it something she had said? She decided to say nothing, to allow the silence to sit between them.

All she did was slip her hand into his.

**\---**

The Cricland faculty were gathered together in the boardroom, high above the school grounds. The sunset painted the room in a warm orange light.

Amoveus sat at the head of the table, rubbing his temples with his fingertips. His colleagues all watched him with concerned expressions. "We need to make a decision soon," he told them. "We cannot keep those concerned waiting for answers any longer.”

They all knew he was talking about the parents of the children under their care. Several had repeatedly asked Amoveus whether they should be expecting their children to return home, or whether they would be staying at school with increased security measures. Furthermore, Queen Miele had requested an audience with him in two days’ time, and she would undoubtedly be asking the same questions.

Another attack on campus - this time against a member of that increased security - had only made students and their parents even more fearful of the future. “I cannot make these decisions without considering all possible angles.” Amoveus continued. “Therefore, I would like to hear your thoughts.”

For what seemed like forever, nobody spoke. The teachers glanced at each other, daring each other to go first instead. “They should stay here.” Vennox spoke out, arms crossed over his chest. “Right now, they are surrounded by capable soldiers, and their teachers are trained, qualified Hunters. This level of security wouldn’t be guaranteed to them if they went home.”

“That’s right,” Dravena agreed. “Not all of our students have family that are as well trained to protect them. Sending them home may place them in even more danger. Besides,” she shrugged. “The students themselves are hardly defenceless. The vast majority have attended prep schools beforehand, and a life of danger is what they are preparing for. I believe in them, and in their ability to defend themselves and each other if they should need to.”

Ash nodded, clearly sharing the sentiment. To her right, Dove leaned forward in her seat. “But they’re still just children.” She argued. “Until they graduate, they are still our responsibility. We should keep them out of danger, and if the danger is here, we should evacuate them.”

“Besides, the culprit is clearly not just after students.” Ianto added. “For all we know, anyone and everyone is in danger. Even us. We could stop more people from getting hurt by keeping the students here, where we can keep an eye on them. Particularly some of the students that may need more protection than others.”

Fenmore, who was seated next to Amoveus, straightened. “You are referring to the prince, yes? I understand his personal guard has decreased over the years… but I could request soldiers from the castle be sent here to guard him.”

“It’s not just him, though.” Ianto continued. “I also mean others with something of a reputation, and some of our more… eccentric students. Those who might not fully comprehend the severity of the situation. Like Morrigan Astarte.”

"Why should we prioritise some students over others?" Vennox cut in. "The prince, perhaps, but Morrigan-"

"Could get herself into trouble without the sufficient protection." Ianto chuckled slightly. "She has a reputation as a celebrity, and comes from a wealthy family. I just mean that some students may have a higher chance of being taken than others, so we should take precautions to protect them…"

The discussion faded into the background as Amoveus sighed and retreated into his own head. Just as he had feared, his staff was split - some wished to send the students home, while others advocated for them to stay.

He took this position to protect those who needed him, not thrust them further into danger. Yet which path would allow him to do so?

"Perhaps we should adjourn for now." Fenmore spoke up, rising from their seat and turning to the teachers. "We all need rest to face whatever tomorrow may bring. Please reassure your students that we are working towards a solution as quickly as possible, and that there is nothing to worry about. Thank you."

Murmured voices and the scraping of chairs against the hardwood floor filled the air as the teachers filed out of the room. Only Amoveus remained seated. When the teachers had left, Fenmore turned to their boss. "What will you do now, sir?"

Amoveus looked up with a sigh. "I need to discuss this with the others. I want to know what they're doing with their schools."

"Should I ask them to meet you tomorrow?"

"Please."

Fenmore nodded and walked out of the room, leaving Amoveus alone. He rose from his seat and moved to the window, watching the darkening sky.

He swore an oath to himself to protect all of his students no matter what. He was not about to break such a promise now.

**\---**

"What?! What do you mean, you failed?!"

Mr. Fabricant fumed after Apex returned beaten and damaged, without his newest subject. Apex watched him emotionlessly as he grumbled in a frustrated manner to himself.

"To think she was going to be so useful, especially with that Essence of hers…! I suppose this is what happens when I use a human child to do my bidding!" He raged. He turned to Apex, his red eye burning particularly bright with fury.

The next thing Apex felt was pain. Indescribable, excruciating, electric pain shot through their entire body. Their limbs twitched and convulsed, making them lose their balance. Apex fell to their hands and knees.

For the first time, a thought passed through their head. _I want this pain to stop._

As suddenly as it had begun, the pain stopped. Apex hesitated, expecting another sudden jolt. When nothing came, they slowly rose to their feet. They balled their hands into fists to stop the trembling.

They stared at their hands. They were trembling. They’ve never trembled before. It was a strange sensation.

"Let that be a warning not to disappoint me again," Mr. Fabricant monotoned. "This plan can't afford any setbacks. Do you understand?"

Apex nodded. Seemingly satisfied with the response, Mr. Fabricant continued.

"Show me that video again," was the order from Apex's master. "If that woman was too much for you, perhaps I'll settle for one of the children. If I recall, that boy seemed a good candidate…"

Apex projected the video of the city clash. Mr. Fabricant watched it again with concentration, as though looking for something specific. "Pause it." He said.

Apex paused the video. The screen now displayed an image of the four children - they were standing back to back as they fought the incoming swarm of Nephiles.

Mr. Fabricant pointed at one in particular, grinning. "Him. Bring me him."

The grin was wiped away as Mr. Fabricant cried out and doubled over, tightly gripping his head. "Stupid… old man…!" He choked out. "Stop… trying to interfere…!"

Apex watched, unsure of what to do. Moments later, Mr. Fabricant rose to his full height again, panting. Sweat had gathered on his forehead. "Stupid old man," he muttered again. "Trying to fight back when he knows it's futile." He turned to Apex. "You had better not mess it up again, do you understand? I'm not going to repair you again - I'm much too busy preparing the others.

Apex nodded. They would not fail this time - they could not. The pain was too much to suffer through for a second time.


	12. Burden of Leadership

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While training with the four, Marina informs them about the progress into the investigation of the kidnappings and the identity of Apex. Amoveus meets with his fellow school leaders for guidance regarding what to do about Cricland's future...

"How are you guys at hand to hand?"

It was the third day of Klimt's training with Marina. On this particular day all four members of the team were present - Morrigan and Silla were watching the fight, while Damian was preoccupied by a book. Marina had asked the question while prodding at Klimt with the blade of her lance. Klimt swung his own sword in retaliation, blocking the strikes.

"Uh… hand to hand?" Morrigan repeated. "You mean, like, with no weapons? Punching stuff? I've never done that before. I could break a nail, or a bone or something. And what if I get bruised? I'd get ugly bruises on my delicate hands."

Marina didn't look too surprised at such a response from her. "What about you, Damian?"

He responded with a shrug. "Never needed to think about it."

Marina waited for more, but Damian remained silent. "Alright then… Silla?"

"I have a little training." Silla revealed. "Vennox taught me that it's important to know how to defend yourself even if you somehow lose your weapon."

Everyone paused and turned to look at her with expressions of varying degrees of bewilderment. Silla shrunk under their inquisitive gazes, a light blush rising in her cheeks. "Is that really so surprising…?"

"It's just a little hard to imagine a frail maiden like yourself punching someone out, that's all." Marina admitted, turning back to poking at Klimt with her lance. "But I'm surprised your unarmed training is so lacking, guys. It’s one of the first things we focus on at Krimholdt. What are you going to do if you lose your weapon?"

"Um, die? What else would we do?" Morrigan questioned. "There's no way I'm punching anyone. What if I get blood or something on me? If anyone's the frail maiden here, it's me."

"Says the girl that swings a guitar axe around," Klimt muttered. Morrigan harrumphed at him and continued strumming on her guitar, humming along to the tune she was making.

Marina rose to her full height and pressed the button on her lance, compacting it into a shorter form, and hooking it on her belt. "Okay, then, I guess it's up to me to teach you that much. Time to lose the sword, Klimt."

Klimt sheathed his katana and reluctantly leaned the weapon against the wall next to Morrigan, who assured him that she would look after it, before walking back into the arena. Marina raised her fists in front of her face, standing with her legs apart. “Now, copy my stance, like this.” She instructed. “Put your best foot forward, and guard your face.”

Klimt obeyed, barely rising his fists before Marina kicked off of the ground and charged towards him, swinging an arm backwards. With a startled cry, Klimt ducked under the swing of her fist and rolled away, propping himself up on his knee.

Marina stumbled to a stop and turned to him. “Impressive dodge,” she praised. “I thought for sure I could knock you off your feet.”

“Y-You could have taken my head off with a punch like that,” Klimt gasped, clutching his chest.

“You’d have been fine. Let me try again.”

Before Klimt could object, Marina charged at him again, swinging her fists forward. Klimt dodged and ducked under the swings, swatting away one blow that came too close to connecting with his face. He gasped as he felt his back collide with a wall; he launched himself away from the wall just as Marina punched forward, her fist smashing into the wall, sending brick fragments and dust exploding from the column. Damian brushed a stray speck of dust off of the page he was reading.

Laughing, Marina turned to Klimt. “Okay, okay, you’re fast enough to stop someone beating you up. But you will have to punch back at some point. You can’t win a fight by running away.”

“I know,” Klimt muttered. He rose to his feet, brushed debris from his clothes and raised his fists again. Marina smiled and followed suit.

“Hey, Marina,” Morrigan called out as they began trading blows. “Have you found out anything new about the case?”

“Well, I’m not supposed to tell civilians,” Marina began, grunting as she guarded against Klimt’s punch. “But I suppose telling you guys wouldn’t hurt, as long as you kept it to yourselves. Like we said yesterday, we’re thinking that Apex could be one of the first kidnap victims, who is now being used to kidnap others. We’re using a list of kidnapped victims as a reference.”

“Any suspects right now from that list?”

“We’re considering Pryce McClain as a potential name. He sound familiar to you guys?”

The name struck a chord in Damian’s memory. He stumbled across a poster for Pryce when he had first gone missing. 

“He seems to fit what we’re looking for.” Marina continued. “A young, physically fit man - with the right robotic modifications, he could carry out these kidnappings. Of course, that’s considering everyone that’s vanished within the past few months was the work of the same guy, which seems unlikely right now..”

“That depends on how long this person has been taking people.” Silla said. “By now, it’s been quite a while…”

“And on how often they’re taking people.” Damian added. “For all we know, they’ve been taking a few new victims a day.”

“I don’t think it’s daily. There would be a much bigger panic.” Marina told them. “Still, it’s often enough that this guy potentially has a lot of victims, and potentially a lot of evil cyborgs prepared.”

Klimt stopped, slowly lowering his fists. “So… we won’t find all of those kidnapped people alive?”

Marina’s easygoing smile fell away. Morrigan looked up from her guitar with a frown. Silla reached up to curl a loose strand of her hair around her finger, glancing away from the conversation. Damian simply flicked to the next page.

Marina eventually sighed. “No. We probably won’t. We don’t even know if Apex can be counted as alive, or what we’re going to do with them if we apprehend them. Can they be held responsible for these kidnappings or not? It’s going to be hard to decide what to do next. But we always knew that such casualties were a possibility.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s right, or that we should just dismiss it.” Klimt argued.

Marina hesitated before nodding slowly. “You’re right - we can’t do that.” She rose to her full height and yawned. “Okay, Klimt, I’m done with you for now. I haven’t landed a single hit on you - you’re pretty fast.”

“Oh, um…” Klimt shrugged. “I guess I am. Just natural ability.”

“Not winning a fight pisses me off something fierce. I need a good release after punching at thin air all day.” Marina rounded on Morrigan, smirking. “Your turn, Little Miss Rockstar.”

“M-Me?” Morrigan gasped, nearly dropping her guitar. “Uh, no, that’s okay. I just painted my nails this morning. See?” She showed off the backs of her hands and her nails painted rose pink. “I don’t want to ruin them.”

“You can’t sing your way out of this one. Get over here.” Marina commanded, pointing down to the ground in front of her. “Or I’ll tell your brother that you’re skipping vital training.”

Morrigan groaned loudly and jumped down from where she was sitting, leaving her guitar leaning up against the wall. As she passed by Klimt, he patted her on the shoulder encouragingly. He picked up his katana and hooked it back onto his belt before taking a seat.

“Okay,” Marina began. “Do what I told Klimt to do. Stand with your feet apart, putting your best foot slightly forward, and guarding your face with your hands.” She clenched her hands into fists and held them up. “This means that you’ll be ready to charge at a moment’s notice, while protecting your face from a counterattack.” She glanced down at Morrigan’s boots. “Normally I’d discourage wearing heels like that into a fight…”

“Yeah? Well, I like these boots. They’re nice.” Morrigan told her.

“They make her taller than she actually is.” Damian called to them, without glancing away from his book. Morrigan stuck her tongue out at him, despite the fact that he couldn’t actually see.

“But,” Marina continued. “They could help in causing more pain to your opponent. I definitely wouldn’t want to get a heel like that on my feet or to the groin.”

“Ha! See? There’s method to my fashion sense!” Morrigan exclaimed triumphantly.

“Okay, you win.” Marina laughed. “Now, where was I? Right, so keep your hands prepared to strike back...”

**\---**

The only sound Amoveus could hear was the ticking of the clock on the wall. His mind was oddly calm as he watched the hand on the clock face turn. When was the last time he felt such strange tranquility? This room - the holographic communication centre - had always given the feeling that the world stopped around whoever entered it.

The room itself was fairly small, meant only for himself and three other platforms for the holographic projections of the other headteachers. The room was dimly lit by green lights on the walls.

As the clock struck the hour, three holograms appeared in the room above the other platforms. Three figures were now watching him and each other expectantly.

To his left stood Archbishop Gaia Ephynx, headmistress of Ezronio Academy in Mufleyrin, and the archbishop of the Order of the Divine Kaliara. She had long, rose coloured hair that fell in two halves over her shoulders. Her eyes matched her ruby hair. An extravagant golden crown adorned her head, and her dress was white and covered with jewels and ornaments. A gentle smile was spread across her lips, and her hands were clasped together in front of her.

To his right stood Niemi Shinohara, headmistress of Vlounshire Academy in Schokor. Her curled red hair was tied into a low ponytail. Her large goggles obscured her eyes from those around her. She wore an orange jumpsuit over a black shirt. Her right arm was crossed over her stomach, her left arm resting on it as she fiddled with the earring dangling from her right ear.

Directly in front of him stood Aquarius Requiem, headmistress of Krimholdt Academy in Ustrad. Her dark eyes held a stern yet determined shine to them. She was taller than all of them, with dark skin and bobbed curled hair. She was also more muscular than all of them, her well built arms crossed over her chest. She wore a blue shirt and black leggings, with brown boots. A teal ribbon was tied around her right arm.

“Good afternoon,” Amoveus greeted them. “I’m sure you already know why I have asked to speak with you.”

“This is about these kidnappings, isn’t it?” Niemi asked.

Gaia frowned. “This predicament is tragically horrific… For what reason could anyone wish to kidnap such innocent souls?”

“Trying to understand such a thing won’t get us anywhere. All we need to do is focus on responding to it.” Aquarius said.

“And that is why I am consulting you.” Amoveus said. “I want to know what your plans are regarding your schools and your students.”

“It is natural to be concerned about the safety of our students. They have, after all, been entrusted to our care. But I have faith that everything will come to a peaceful resolution.” Gaia told him. She clasped her hands together in front of her chest and closed her eyes. “I pray to the Divine Kaliara that those who have been taken will return to us - She will make it so. In the meantime, we must proceed with our own business.”

“While I have no wish to criticise your faith in the goddess, it would benefit your students to make such decisions of your own will, rather than relying on a higher power to perform miracles every time we need them.” Aquarius advised. “Nevertheless… I have done the same. Krimholdt will stand its ground and will not send its students home. Doing as such would only be a sign of weakness, and we have no intention of bowing to evil.”

“So… you’re both keeping your students at school?” Niemi questioned. She paused, looking down at the ground. “Perhaps I have no room to make such a judgement, since I’m still new to this…”

“Nonsense. You have as much a right to make these decisions as the rest of us. That is the burden of leadership we have volunteered to undertake.” Amoveus assured her. “What do you think is the best course of action to take?”

Niemi glanced up at him, hesitating for several moments. Eventually she said, “We have sent our students home for the time being, until the danger has passed. It would be impossible for us to ensure every single student’s safety. We’ve ensured that they won’t miss out on any important teaching material, and they know to keep up their training.”

Amoveus took some time to absorb the information. Two of his fellow headteachers had advocated for keeping their students at school, believing that it would be safer. 

Well, he corrected himself, Gaia has decided as such on account of it being safer. Aquarius had perhaps allowed a sense of pride to govern her decision.

On the other hand, Niemi had sent her students home until the threat of the kidnappings had vanished. Amoveus couldn’t criticise her decision; she was right in that she was new to her position, having only held it for a handful of years. Additionally, nothing in their history had prepared them for a situation such as this - they had no previous experience or previous similar event to rely on when making such a decision on how to counter the event.

“I did ask General Valya if she could send some of her soldiers to help protect the students,” Niemi continued. “But she said that doing so would limit the protection to Krimholdt and Ustrad, which she has to prioritise…”

“I was never under the impression that she was lacking firepower.” Aquarius commented, an eyebrow raised. “Although perhaps the workings of the military have changed since I left.”

“But this lack of protection is why I felt the need to have my students leave the school for the time being.” Niemi sighed. “It’s what I felt was best…”

“And I’m certain that it was.” Amoveus reassured her. “You considered the situation before you alongside possible courses of action, and you acted in the way you believed benefitted your students best. You simply did your job.” He paused, nodding to himself. “And now I must do the same.”

“Our students are strong. That is the point of their training. Shielding them from this current danger would only hinder them in the long run.” Aquarius said. “While it may be somewhat extreme compared to their current expectations, this situation can be used to prepare them for their futures. That is why I have decided to keep my school operational; by overcoming this danger using their skills, they will become even stronger than before.”

“Yet they are still just children. These responsibilities should not be on their shoulders - it is on ours. It is up to us, alongside the military and the police, to protect them and investigate the incident ourselves. By endangering them in such a manner, are we truly doing what is best for them?” Gaia questioned. “Until the Divine Kaliara sends Her protection and guidance, we must act in Her stead.”

Niemi remained silent, instead watching Amoveus as his gaze was focused on the ground. His arms were crossed, one of his fingers tapping rhythmically against his arm - a sign, she had noticed in the years of working alongside him, that he was deep in thought. 

Eventually, Amoveus looked up, his arms flowing back down to his sides. “Well?” Aquarius asked. “Have you finally reached a decision?”

He nodded. “I have. I thank the three of you for your guidance in this matter; I daresay I would not have reached this conclusion without you.”

“What have you decided?” Niemi asked him.

Amoveus met her gaze. “Cricland will continue as normal. Students will not be sent home. Aquarius is right - such a thing would only show our enemy that they are winning this war. We must show them that we have no intention of allowing them to get away with their crimes.”

After saying their farewells, the three holograms disappeared from the room, leaving Amoveus alone. He sighed, looking down at his hands - had he made the right decision?

He left the room, closing the door behind him. Fenmore stood before him, clutching their tablet close to their chest. Amoveus smiled at the sight of them; it often felt as though they could read his mind whenever he wished for their presence, and he was glad for it.

“Fenmore,” he began. “Tomorrow, will you announce to the students that Cricland remains open and operational? Don’t bother them tonight - leave it until the morning.”

Fenmore nodded. “It will be done, sir.”

Amoveus nodded back to them, and without another word, walked past them. All he wished to do now was go to bed; his body felt as though it would collapse at any moment. But his mind was as active as ever, always racing with thoughts, possibilities and anxieties. 

He tried to shoo them out of his mind. He had made his decision now - he could not take it back. Only time would tell if he had made the wrong choice. He prayed to Kaliara that he was in the right.


	13. Her Majesty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amoveus announces to his students that Cricland will not close as a result of the kidnappings, and he meets with the queen to relay this decision to her; Marina is given a new assignment...

The students crowded into the auditorium after an announcement from Fenmore awoke them, requesting their presence there by nine o'clock. Several of them stumbled into the room, hands covering their mouths as they yawned. The room wasn't quite bustling with chatter and excitement on account of the early hour.

"What do they want with us now…?" Morrigan complained. "I only got ten hours last night. Ten! I just missed my usual twelve!"

"You sleep for twelve hours?" Damian asked, glancing at her with a frown.

"What else would I do? I need my sleep to stay healthy! You know, keep my smooth skin and stuff. You could do with getting more sleep, Damie - maybe you'd be less grumpy."

Damian dismissed her with an eye roll.

"Maybe this is an update about the kidnappings." Silla suggested, standing close by her team while edging away from the crowd around them. "I hope no one else has gotten hurt…"

"We would probably have heard about it by now if they had." Klimt assured her.

The door by the stage opened, and Amoveus stepped into the room, climbing the steps and approaching the centre of the stage. He wore a warm smile on his face, but Damian couldn't help but notice something strained about it. "Good morning," Amoveus addressed the room. "My apologies for dragging you all out of bed at this hour. I shall make this quick. I, along with the rest of your professors, have been debating over the future of Cricland. Whether we should close and send you all home, or whether we should keep the school open and operating as normal. We have decided on the latter."

Whispers and murmurs erupted from the crowd as Amoveus continued. "I understand that many of you may be worried or concerned about this decision. Perhaps you don't think that Cricland is the safest place to be at the moment. I wish to do away with these fears - I wish to demonstrate that this school is your safe haven during this crisis. We believe that keeping you here is the best for the safety of not only yourselves, but your families as well. I understand that simply my word on the matter may not be enough to soothe your concerns, however. Know that our doors are always open for you if you want to speak to us, about anything. In times of hardship, we must always stand together. Thank you."

Nodding to the crowd, Amoveus walked off the stage, and exited the room through the door in which he entered. The whispers became loud chattering as students filed out of the room.

Morrigan groaned. "We have to stay here? Here I was, hoping for loads of days off to just do nothing…"

"What's the point of attending an academy if you can't be bothered to do any work?" Damian asked. "He's right - we're better off here."

"I feel bad for people worrying about their families," Silla frowned. "At least I can see Vennox here whenever I want, but they…"

“Maybe the military will be helping them out,” Morrigan shrugged. “Or maybe they’ll hire some freelance Hunters to protect people. Oh, maybe that means I could run into Uncle Claude if he gets assigned here!”

“Your uncle is a Hunter, too?” Silla asked.

“Uh-huh. One of the best! He’s super strong, and we hardly ever see him because of how often he’s exploring the world and doing jobs for people. He’s super popular, too, because of how strong he is. Everyone wants to hire Claudio LeGrand to protect them!”

Damian turned to her. He had heard that name before. “Claudio LeGrand is  _ your _ uncle?” He asked. “So, what, now you’re trying to be as great as him? You’re nowhere near his level. Keep up how you behave and you never will be.”

“Don’t say things like that.” Klimt snapped at him, his eyes narrowing into an uncharacteristically harsh glare. “I keep telling you to-”

Silla stepped in between them, raising her phone in her hand. “We have Vennox’s class soon. We should get going before we’re late.”

Morrigan groaned. “Not again… Your brother totally hates me for no reason, Silla.”

Silla nudged Morrigan along gently, encouraging her to start moving towards their class, while reassuring her that their Physical Combat professor didn’t hate anyone. Klimt’s darkened gaze rested on Damian for a moment before he stepped away and followed after the girls.

Damian sighed, shaking his head.  _ You try to help people,  _ he lamented,  _ and all you get is a diatribe. _

**\---**

Amoveus again found himself stood in the holographic communication centre, listening to the rhythmic ticking of the clock. It was the only sound in the room, aside from the hum of the holographic panels as energy coursed through them. It was somewhat distracting in the middle of meetings.

The panel in front of him activated, and a shape took form above it. The shape solidified into an older woman wearing a yellow and white dress. Her silver hair was tied into a neat bun, and a golden crown sat upon her head. Her eyes were firm, but showed no trace of unkindness. Queen Miele Axton stood before him, her fingers intertwined on her lap.

Amoveus lowered himself into a bow. “Your Majesty,” he greeted.

“Mr. Izolin,” she returned, inclining her head. “I have been told to expect a report on the future of your school regarding the current situation. Have you made a decision?”

“Yes.” He nodded after rising to his full height. “I have considered the matter extensively, and I have thought of every matter possible. I believe the best course of action is to keep Cricland open and running as normal, with the students staying here.”

Miele paused, assessing him. “I see,” she eventually said. “Might I ask how you came to this decision?”

“Sending the students home may only place them in further danger.” Amoveus began. “Not all of them could protect themselves and their families sufficiently if they went home. Some students could be the only Hunters in their family, and so would be the only ones able to fight for their families should danger strike - considering their lack of training up to this point, this could result in more fatalities. Additionally, while some students live within the cities and are thus under that protection, some live outside the cities. They would not have the same level of security that other students have, which would simply be unfair.

“I believe the best course of action is to keep every student here, where they are protected by licensed and talented Hunters, and skilled military soldiers. That, in my eyes, is a much better solution than sending them away and leaving them to fend for themselves. We would be failing as educators if we did. Until they become more experienced in these matters, it is up to us to protect them from harm. Because, at the end of the day, they are yet still children.”

Amoveus stopped and waited for the queen’s reaction. If he was being honest with himself, he hadn’t been entirely certain that she would agree with his decision and viewpoint, especially considering her son was one of his students. On the chance that she disagreed, she did have the authority to override his decision, which he sincerely hoped she did not consider.

Miele stared at him as she considered his words. "Very well," she eventually said. "You do have a point. We must consider the safety of everyone in the kingdom, not just the students at Cricland.” She paused, a frown tugging at the corner of her lips. She seemed hesitant to meet Amoveus’ gaze.

“Does something bother you, Your Majesty?” Amoveus asked. His expression suddenly relaxed. “Ah… is it about your son?”

Miele’s shoulders lifted, as though a burden had just vanished from them. “It seems selfish to worry about him when all of Droengya - all of Tiallarynn - is in danger,” the queen admitted. “Yet I find myself wondering what could happen, now that his personal guard no longer sees to his protection. He insists he is strong enough to protect himself now, but even so...”

“I understand. It is only natural for anyone to worry about their children.” Amoveus smiled. “We can’t have our hardworking queen worrying herself to the brink, can we? As you have no doubt heard, General Valya has provided some of her soldiers to help protect the school. I’ll ask for one to be assigned to watch your son, if you so wish. I have no doubt that he is himself capable, but some extra insurance can’t hurt.”

Miele looked up, but said nothing for several moments. "I imagine he would be rather embarrassed to have his mother request such a thing…"

"Then I shall ensure there is no mention of your name in the matter. As far as he knows, it was my decision."

Miele paused again before sighing. "You have my gratitude, Mr. Izolin. Please inform me of future developments when they arise. Now, I have other matters to attend to. If you will excuse me."

Amoveus bowed again, and when he looked up the image of the queen had vanished. He sighed as he found himself alone once again, with only the ticking of the clock for company.

He stepped off of the holographic panel and left the room, taking his phone from his pocket. He tapped on the screen several times before bringing the device close to his face. "Fenmore," he said. "Please inform Captain Astarte I wish to speak to him at his earliest convenience."

_ "Yes, sir."  _ came Fenmore's reply.

**\---**

The library was quiet as Elas flicked to the next page of his book. Not a lot of his fellow students bothered to attend their study periods, preferring to study elsewhere or not study at all. He could not understand mindsets like the latter; why attend such a school and then not actively participate in any learning?

Elas was the only member of his team to regularly attend the study period, although he did not believe that they were simply skipping it due to laziness. They had always seemed a little uneasy around him, and clearly sitting in such close quarters with him was too much to bear. They were nice in conversation, of course, but it was obvious that they felt somewhat awkward around him.

He sighed - it was hardly an unusual occurrence. He was quite used to it by now.

He wished to make himself more open to his peers, but hadn’t the slightest clue about where to start. He didn’t know much about what a normal teenager should like, or how they should behave. For his whole life, all he could do was watch his peers from a distance, a part of him wishing he could be among them.

Only two other groups were attending the period, sitting at other tables. One of the groups, sitting to his left, looked familiar to him - they were in his Physical Combat class, which they had all left almost an hour before. He watched as they studied together; the sandy haired boy was engrossed in his book, leaning back in his chair with his feet resting on the table. The red haired girl sitting next to him was taking notes from a book open on the table before her.

He knew one of them by name - Morrigan, the girl with black hair in pigtails, was talking to the other boy next to her. She had her face resting in her hand, eyes slightly drooping, as the boy spoke, pointing at pages in a book. In the middle of her companion’s explanations, her eyes rose and scanned the room. They eventually landed on Elas, and he quickly turned back to his book.

She saw him staring - he knew it. He hadn’t looked away fast enough. Now what was she going to think about him? Someone she barely knew, had a conversation with once, had been watching her and her friends from across the room. That was it; he’d destroyed any chance of getting to know her and her friends. Now he was doomed to-

“Hi!”

Elas looked up, jumping slightly at the singsong voice. Morrigan had moved from the corner of the room to being sat right in front of him, on the other side of the table, smiling. How had he not heard her approaching? He forced himself to calm down and nodded to her. “Hello.”

He glanced over her shoulder to where her team sat. Her black haired companion looked exasperated, holding his head in a hand. The red haired girl was speaking to him - although Elas couldn’t make out exactly what she was saying. The sandy haired boy hadn’t moved.

“Where’s the rest of your team?” Morrigan asked. “Normally teams have study periods together, right?”

“Um… yes, but they’re… busy.” Elas replied.

“So… they’re always busy? Because we always see you here on your own.”

“Ah, well…” Elas didn’t have any further excuses for his team’s behaviour - he hardly wanted to admit that they weren’t there because of him.

Morrigan appeared oblivious to his nerves. "You can come and sit with us if you want! We'll keep you company. Damie's pretty grouchy, but me and Klimt and Silla are really nice!"

Elas shifted in his seat. "Oh, no, that's alright. I don't want to be a bother."

"Oh, but you won't be. Pleaaaaase? At least think about it?"

Movement over Morrigan's shoulder distracted Elas from her begging. A pink haired woman - the librarian Aziza - had just entered their section of the library. She was followed by a blonde woman wearing green. The blonde smiled upon seeing Morrigan's team, exchanging greetings.

Morrigan noticed that Elas' attention had wavered and turned to follow his gaze. She gasped, leaping out of her seat. "Marina!" She exclaimed.

The blonde looked up and, after finishing her conversation with the other table, strolled over to the two. "Morrigan," Marina nodded. "I'd love to chat, but I have to talk to Elas."

Morrigan tilted her head. "Oh, really? Why?"

"Orders from the captain. So, can we…?" She trailed off.

Morrigan stared, uncomprehending. Some vague hand motions from Marina seemed to make the message clearer. "Oooooh! A super secret conversation! That's exciting! Oh well, I'll just ask Flint later." She rose from her seat and strolled back to her team's table, waving at the two over her shoulder.

Marina watched her go before turning back to Elas. "She's a handful, huh? Are you friends?"

"Oh, um… I'm not sure. She just comes up and talks to me from time to time." He paused. "Um…"

"Oh, right. Should probably introduce myself." Marina dug around in her pocket before pulling out a badge. She placed it on the table in front of her. "Lieutenant Marina Brunnhilde. I've been asked by the headmaster to keep an eye on you given recent events."

Elas' shoulders slumped. "I see…"

Marina observed him through a narrowed side eye. "You don't seem too pleased with that."

Elas shook his head. "No… it's nothing. I'm sorry that your time is going to be wasted like this…"

"Wasted? Of course it won't be wasted. I'm just doing my job; following orders. In fact, I'm surprised you don't have anyone watching you. You know, considering…"

"I used to, but… not anymore. My security is more relaxed now. I can take care of myself." Another pause. "How long will this arrangement last?"

"Not a clue, I'm afraid. I imagine my captain will tell me if and when anything changes, but for now, I've been assigned to protect you during your school day. So during classes, and anywhere else you might go during the day." She leaned forward, smiling. "Don't worry, I'll leave you alone when it's time for bed. Someone else will be standing guard outside your room during the night, while I get some sleep."

Elas forced a small smile for her, but in reality he was exhausted. Had it really been the headmaster's idea, or had his mother had some influence in this arrangement? All he wanted was to spend time like a normal student, but a guard would only make people more anxious around him. 

And what would Morrigan think? She appeared to be the only person in the entire school who had no idea who he was, so she treated him like she treated everyone else. Would a guard make her start asking questions? If she found out who he was, would that make her begin acting like everyone else? Would she no longer approach him with a bright smile?

They spent the rest of their time in the library in relative silence; Marina made light conversation and cracked several jokes every now and then, and Elas responded because that was the polite thing to do.

The sooner this is all over, he thought to himself, the sooner he could go back to pretending to be a normal teenager.


	14. Detective Locke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The four attend Ianto's lecture, where Silla finds a discrepancy in what is commonly believed about their world; Flint meets with the military's police contact to discover their findings from their interrogations...

Ianto led his class through the Crimson Forest, fallen leaves crunching under the stampede of feet. One student had asked why the leaves on the trees were red in the first place, to which their professor had replied that he had no idea. A few students laughed, perhaps thinking he was joking. He was not.

Soon, the group came into a clearing, where a familiar building sat before them - the Cascade Ruins. Nothing had changed since their first introduction to the abandoned temple. It was as dilapidated as it had been before, with weeds and overgrown grass climbing up the stone walls that remained.

Morrigan swallowed uneasily. “Um, Professor?” She began. “Is it really a good idea to come back here? What if one of those bat things is in here again? I kind of nearly died last time…”

“I’ve been assured that there are no Nephiles living here now.” Ianto reassured her. “Dravena - although I suppose she’s Professor Sardonyx to you - searched it a few days ago and set something up to make sure of that for our visit today. I have no idea what she did, though. You’ll have to ask her that for yourself.”

Morrigan nodded, but the frown on her lips remained as she edged closer to her team. The class gathered around Ianto. “Now, I’m sure you all recognise this place.” He said. “You’ve all been here during your induction mission. But did any of you wonder what this place used to be? It’s certainly been forgotten now - now, it’s nothing more than a potential home for Nephiles, providing plenty of shelter and darkness for them. Well, none of us know for sure of the building’s original purpose, but it has been studied extensively, and there are several theories.”

Ianto beckoned the class to follow him as he stepped inside. The morning sunlight filtered into the room through the large hole in the ceiling, illuminating even the darkest corners of the main hall. A chill collectively swept over the class, and several students shivered - without the sun beaming down on them, only their clothes provided them with any heat to combat the chill of the room.

“Take a look around this room,” Ianto continued. “I know it’s not in the best of conditions, and it hasn’t been for what looks like a long time, but with what you can see, what do you think this place used to be?”

Damian glanced around the room, starting with the ground beneath him. A torn red carpet was stretched along the floor, leading further into the building. Tattered banners hung limply from the ceiling; others had fallen from their ropes and lay crumpled on the ground. He approached one and rubbed dirt and debris from the fabric, exposing a recognised symbol underneath. “A church.” He said.

“Yes, that’s the most popular theory about this place,” Ianto nodded. “It’s widely believed that this used to be a church of worship for The Divine Kaliara - not an especially large establishment, though.”

“Isn’t there a church in Ardepolis?” Morrigan asked. “Why was this one made if there’s a church not even an hour away?”

“Again, this is all just theory, but some researchers think that some worshippers disagreed with the church being located in the city. There are some more traditional worshippers who prefer to pray away from the noise and bustle of modern life, and even insist that worship in isolation is how The Divine Kaliara intended Her people to worship Her. Something about being more connected to the natural world. So, they built this shrine for their secluded worship.

“Which is where the problems seemed to arise - the city is well protected, with energy shields, automatic weapons and hired Hunters to protect it in the event of an attack. This temple did not have such things. They may have had hired Hunters, but nothing more. As such, people were afraid of attending this church in case they never made it home again. With attendance dropping, the church eventually became abandoned, with its creators simply moving elsewhere. That’s the theory, anyway.”

Damian noticed Silla standing apart from the rest of the class, peering closely at a wall. As Damian approached, he began to see what she was looking at - there were images drawn on the wall, seemingly depicting some kind of story or event. He had seen them before, when they were there during their induction mission. He clearly recalled the image of an individual outlined in blue, surrounded by other figures drawn in black. It was this blue figure that had appeared to capture Silla’s attention; her hand rested beneath her chin as she examined it.

“What is it?” Damian asked.

“It could just be nothing… but these paintings don’t seem to match up with what Professor Sato is saying.” Silla responded. “This blue figure here seems to be important compared to the rest, since they’re in blue rather than black like everything else. And look at their positions - the black figures seem to be bowing to the blue figure, like they’re worshipping them. Does that mean this blue figure is meant to be The Divine Kaliara?”

“Could be.” A pause. “You don’t agree?”

“It just doesn’t really fit with everything else we know. She’s more commonly associated with colours like green and white and gold - She’s never been depicted in blue. And the figure in this painting looks kind of masculine, if you look really closely. It’s kind of hard to tell, given the dust and cobwebs, but… that’s what it looks like to me.”

“So you noticed.”

The two turned to find Ianto standing behind them, looking up at the painting. “No one really has an explanation for all that.I definitely don’t have all the answers - I’m a musician, not a theologist. But Aziza, our librarian, is into stuff like this. She runs herself ragged researching possible reasons for all the discrepancies you mentioned, although I don’t think she’s found anything yet. You could talk to her, if stuff like this interests you.”

Damian was hardly interested in religious nonsense, especially the kind that apparently couldn’t even depict its own deity correctly. He kept these thoughts to himself as he mumbled something to get Ianto to focus on something else. Eventually, the class left the ruins behind, and began the walk through the forest back to the school. 

When the team of four fell into step with each other, Morrigan regarded Damian and Silla with a pout. “So you two ran off and left Klimt and I behind, huh? Did you have fun looking at those weird paintings? I didn’t think you were into that kind of thing, Damie.”

“I’m not,” Damian responded before a guilty looking Silla could reply. “But it certainly saved me from the usual headache I get from listening to you.”

With a narrowed gaze, Klimt opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off when Morrigan began chattering about something else and changed the topic entirely. Klimt turned away to respond to her, but not without shooting Damian a glare. Damian didn’t appear to notice it.

**\---**

Flint stepped through the revolving door into Ardepolis Police Station. The military unit stationed in Droengya had been working closely with the local police in an effort to solve the mystery behind the kidnappings. By pooling their resources together, it had been hoped that the incident could be resolved faster, but right now, the idea seemed to have fallen flat.

Flint approached the receptionist at the desk, flashing his identification badge. “Captain Astarte here to see Detective Locke?”

“I’ll call him for you, sir,” The woman said, her finger touching her earpiece as she mumbled into it. Moments later, she turned back to Flint. “Detective Locke will be with you in a moment, sir.”

Flint nodded his thanks to her and leaned against the wall as he waited. Detective Nex Locke of the APD had been assigned as the military’s police contact; they liaised with him regarding the exchange of information and making decisions regarding their next steps. This was Flint’s first time meeting the man.

An opening door and approaching footsteps caught Flint’s attention, and he turned to see a man approaching him. He had brown hair and sharp green eyes, with his clothes bringing to mind a stereotypical detective that one might see on a gritty and depressing television drama, with the tie and the long black trench coat. Small Gemstones of a variety of colours were stored on his belt and glittered in the artificial light.

The man - presumably Nex - outstretched a hand towards Flint. “Nex Locke of the APD,” he introduced himself as Flint shook his hand. “Good to meet you, Captain.”

“Likewise,” Flint nodded. “I apologise if you were expecting two of us - my lieutenant was supposed to be here with me, but she was called away on a new assignment at the last minute. She’s busy babysitting the prince.”

If Nex thought Flint’s remark amusing, he didn’t show it. He simply nodded and said, “Come along to my office. We can go into details there.” Nex turned away and walked further into the station, Flint following after him. They stopped in an office tucked away at the back of the building - Nex closed the door after Flint and settled into the chair behind the desk. Flint sat on the other side.

“I’ve extensively questioned Pryce McClain’s family.” Nex began. “They claim to have seen him last on the morning of his disappearance. They said that he seemed to be his normal, cheerful self - he didn’t appear to be worried or preoccupied. They said that they could think of no reason why he would intentionally disappear, nor of anyone with a possible motive for harming him.”

“Well, that doesn’t exactly help us much.” Flint sighed. “What about Galina’s family?”

“They said much the same. She remained in contact with them and did so frequently up until her disappearance. They also had no reason to believe that she would vanish on purpose, especially considering she’s an international student - she’d be unfamiliar with the local geography, and so wouldn’t risk going anywhere on her own to avoid getting lost. They said that she always travelled with at least one other person.”

Flint removed his cap with a defeated huff. “So neither of the families know anything. How can there still be no leads after all this time…?”

“We have to find something soon. We haven’t tried everything yet.” Nex said. At Flint’s inquisitive glance, the detective leaned forward. “I don’t see any avenues to further pursue the McClain investigation yet - but Galina Turgenev was taken from school grounds. Staff and hundreds of students were present; someone must have seen something, or know something. Even if they just saw something out of their windows and thought it unimportant, or know something about someone with a motive for all of this, we need to convince them to come forward.”

“So what’s your plan?”

“I want to speak to the Cricland students myself,” Nex announced. “They have to understand - really understand - the severity of the situation. They need to understand that there can be no secrets; that if they know something that could lead to the truth, they need to tell us. Even if they think it’s irrelevant, it might not be.”

Flint thought as he listened. He wasn’t completely sure if the detective’s strategy was going to work - if anything, the poor kids might be frightened out of their minds by his overwhelming persistence. But, as they had no other leads and had made very little progress, Flint was in no position to attempt to stop the man from finding a solution.

Flint rose from his seat. “You should get in touch with the Cricland headmaster. I’m sure he’d appreciate you stopping by and talking to the kids.” With a nod, Flint turned and began walking out of the room. However, as he did so, a previous remark of Marina’s suddenly flashed through his mind. Something about Apex and pink…

He stopped, and turned back. “Detective?”

Nex glanced up, saying nothing.

“Would it be too much to ask for you to go back and talk to the families? Just one question - I want to know the Vitality colours of their missing children.”

A small frown tugged at the corner of Nex’s mouth. “I see… Is that relevant?”

“It could be. It might not. It depends on what they tell you. But as soon as you know, could you tell me?”

Nex hesitated before nodding. “Alright. I’ll let you know as soon as I have the answers you’re seeking.”


	15. Dead of Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marina continues to guard Elas at his mother's request, causing disruption to his already isolated life; the four Hunters in training set off on a practical assignment overseen by Professor Sardonyx, but tense argument between the two boys distracts them from their work...

Elas pitied poor Professor Harper. All she wanted to do was teach her class how to create an effective battle strategy to overcome the next life or death situation, but all people could think about was the green-clad soldier stood guard at the front of the room, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. On her part, Marina was paying attention to Ash’s words, even though she had probably already covered that at Krimholdt and knew strategy like the back of her hand. Although, he supposed, it’s not like she had anything else to do for the hour, so she may as well pay some attention to what was going on.

There was little wonder what Marina was doing there - everyone knew, or had at least guessed, that she was protecting the blue blood among them. They had all seen her following Elas around, in the dining hall, the library, and in classes. It made Elas feel even more aware of how isolated he was from the people around him; to be placed on such a high pedestal should have been an honour, but at the moment it only felt like a hindrance. Now people were even more reluctant to approach him. Marina had tried to help, in her own way, by striking up conversations when Elas just happened to be nearby. He appreciated her efforts, even if whatever she had planned didn’t always pan out the way she hoped it would.

Eventually, Ash dismissed the class, and students began packing their belongings into their bags and leaving the room. Elas walked for the door, Marina falling into step beside him as they left the room. “They’ll regret that later,” Marina said with a chuckle. “They’ll be on the battlefield, wondering how to get out of this jam they’ve found themselves in, wishing they’d paid just a little more attention in strategy class. I guess I should have apologised for causing such a ruckus…”

Elas hummed in response. _You’ll get used to it_ , he wanted to say. Because he had - it was simply an expectation now that his very presence in a room caused some kind of disturbance. Now, because Marina had been ordered to protect him, he was involving her in the effects caused by his presence.

He was acutely aware of Marina watching him from the corner of her eye, and wondered what she could have been thinking about. He didn’t have to wonder for long. “Hey, I know this is kind of sudden,” Marina began. “But when something is getting me down, do you know what helps me get my mind back on track?”

“Training?” Elas guessed.

Marina’s bright smile fell slightly. “How’d you know?”

“Oh, um… you just seem like that kind of person.”

“Oh. Really? The captain has told me I’m easier to read than an open book…” Marina smiled again. “But yeah! Letting go of all of that frustration in a good fight really works wonders. Winning is a good bonus, too - I mean, not like I would know what it means to lose, so I can’t really judge, but you know what I mean. So, how about it? Want to train sometime? I promise you’ll feel better. And it’ll help you improve your combat skills, which is a bonus.”

If Elas was being honest with himself, he didn’t really want to do anything of the kind. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be around Marina, or thought anything negative about her - it was again a matter of wishing not to draw too much attention to himself if he could help it. But something about Marina wanting so desperately to make him feel better made him resistant to turn her down.

He strained a small smile. “Alright. I would love to.” He lied. 

**\---**

“Hey, what’s this weird slot on our timetable for later?”

Damian looked up. Morrigan was frowning at her phone, turning the screen towards Klimt when he moved over to peer at the screen. “That’s Professor Sardonyx’s class,” he told her.

“I know that, but it looks like they’ve got the times all wrong. Look, it says we start at six. But that’s when classes finish.”

“Oh, that’s not an error or anything,” Silla told her. “I heard about it from Vennox earlier. Professor Sardonyx likes to run a lot of practical sessions and assignments… A lot of her research is conducted at night, so to get the full benefit of what she does, we also have to attend class quite late.”

Morrigan sat up, eyes wide. “You mean… we have to be out there? At night? When there’s literally someone running around plucking people, never to be seen again?”

“I heard that she did have to convince Professor Izolin… He didn’t think it was a good idea, but she begged him and he relented. I imagine that they would change some things, though, to make it safer. So there’s nothing to worry about.”

Morrigan groaned and threw her head back down on the cushion she had been laying on. “At least we’ll all be together, too…”

Although, as she later discovered, they were not going to all be together. When the class assembled in the courtyard for the class, Dravena approached, lantern in hand, more excitable than any of them had ever seen her. Not that this fact brought a sense of ease or excitement to the students - considering the eccentricities of their teacher, all it did was bring a sense of dread. Her smile sent chills down several spines.

As they walked away from the school, Dravena announced to the class that they were not going to be working in their teams of four, but in pairs. “Each pair will venture into the Crimson Forest. Your goal is to pick Violette Berries. I expect you know what they are by now, if you’ve done the necessary readings. You should be able to recognise them.”

Morrigan laughed nervously.

“I would like twenty from each pair, but I would never refuse any spare you may have found.” The professor continued, handing out two baskets to each team. “And I doubt I have to tell you this, but just to fulfil the legal requirements - do not eat them. The seeds inside are quite nutritious for Nephiles, but are a poison to humans. Eat just one and you will die. I have no antidotes with me, and even if I did, I doubt I would be able to reach you in time before you succumbed. Well, good luck.”

She finished with a smile and a flourish of her cape, leaving her students dumbfounded before her. Morrigan moved first, clutching Silla’s hand. “I’m going with Silla - her staff thingy can make light for us so we don’t have to move around in the dark. And she probably knows a whole lot more about plant stuff than me!”

“Oh, um… What about Klimt?” Silla asked, glancing at the swordsman in question. “He might want to go with you-”

“This is a good opportunity for some girl bonding! Same thing for Klimt and Damie, which would technically be guy bonding, but whatever. See you guys later!” Walking away with Silla in tow, Morrigan waved at the boys over her shoulder. Silla offered her own small wave before being dragged away.

The boys stood in a lingering silence for several moments. Damian tutted and walked into the forest, Klimt following after him. Damian activated the torch on his phone, illuminating the way. They worked without uttering a word to each other, plucking the small purple berries from the ground and placing them into the basket slung over Klimt’s arm.

Klimt felt an internalised pressure to strike up a conversation. It was what Morrigan would have wanted him to do - she did nothing but pester him about making friends. Not because she was tired of dealing with him; she had well reassured him on that front. She was simply concerned about him being lonely, which he could appreciate.

He had made progress with Silla, at least. He wasn’t sure if she counted as a friend yet, but the girl definitely didn’t seem to hate talking to him. She was polite and respectful, never overstepping Klimt’s unspoken boundaries as far as social interaction went. She was just as introverted as he was, which helped.

But no one could seem to get through to Damian. His razor sharp words cut through any attempt to be friendly. 

No, Klimt corrected himself, Silla had managed to get through to him somewhat. He had never heard Damian say a bad word to or about her. But it was clear he couldn’t stand Morrigan, and Klimt himself was clueless as to what to do about his own relationship with the other boy.

“Hey.”

Klimt’s attention snapped back to Damian, who was standing in front of him clutching more berries. He dropped the berries into the basket. “Losing focus like that is going to get you killed out here.” Damian criticised.

Klimt shuffled on his feet. “Oh, um… sorry.”

Damian sighed, shaking his head, and turned away. “I want to ask you something.”

“What is it?”

“Why do you stick around Morrigan like you do?”

Klimt felt the familiar rush of hot anger that coursed through him every time Damian said something horrible about Morrigan. Albeit he hadn’t said anything that bad yet - it was just a question - but Klimt knew that worse was coming. “Because we’re friends. Best friends.”

“I got that part. I just can’t understand how someone of moderate competence like you became so close to someone so incompetent, and that such a thing doesn’t frustrate you. You’re always helping her do everything, when that will only hold her back when she finds herself alone, and can’t do anything to help herself because you did everything for her.”

“She won’t be alone.” Klimt insisted, his hands clenched into fists. “I’ll always be there for her.”

“No, you won’t. She will have to manage on her own at some point. It’s not just you, either - she was born into a life where she’s never had to do anything herself before. It’s why she’s as weak as she is.”

The basket of berries fell to the ground. In a swift movement, Klimt had unsheathed Karuma and pointed the blade directly at Damian’s throat. Damian stared at the blade with only mild surprise and curiosity.

“Don’t call her weak,” Klimt grumbled, glaring daggers into Damian. “She isn’t weak, or incompetent, or stupid. She’s one of the strongest, nicest and most amazing people I know. I’ve had enough of your horrible attitude - you have no right to lord yourself over people like you do. You have no right to be so cold and arrogant to everyone, who have done nothing to you. Morrigan has tried to be nice, to reach out to you, to be cordial. Even Silla has tried. But all you have done is spit on their efforts. I won’t stand for it anymore.”

Damian smirked. “You do realise that this is only proving my point, don’t you? My point that Morrigan has everyone doing everything for her. Here you are, defending her on her behalf. All I’m saying is she isn’t ready for a life of danger. Is that really something to threaten me over?”

“That’s why we’re here, isn’t it? To learn how to be prepared. She’ll get there.”

Damian turned and began walking away. “We’ll see about that. But when she isn’t, and something awful happens to her, don’t come crying to me.”

Klimt managed to restrain himself from trying to plunge his sword through Damian’s back - even if it would just bounce off somewhat harmlessly - but he couldn’t stop his words. “The only weak one here is you!”

Damian stopped, his entire body freezing in place. Slowly, he turned towards Klimt, his eyes narrowed, burning with anger. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me. You call everyone else weak, criticising them for every little thing, saying anything you can to drag them down. You hurt people to make yourself feel better! I don’t know why you do it, or why you think it’s okay… but it stops now!”

Klimt swore that he saw Damian’s hands begin to tremble as he glared. “You don’t get to tell me what to do, or how to behave.” The compartment slung over Damian’s back opened, the swords stored inside flying out and circling around him. “I’ll prove to you how strong I really am.”

Klimt didn’t really want to engage in a fight there and then, but what other choice did he have? Damian clearly wasn’t going to back down - and this was an opportunity to try and take his arrogance down a notch, even if Morrigan would have disapproved.

Klimt lowered into a stance, drawing Karuma closer to him. “As you wish.”


	16. My Friend is my Foe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian and Klimt clash in a heated struggle; the next day, the team attempt to work through their problems that led to the fight, with varying levels of success...

Growling, Damian thrust his arms forward, sending three of his swords hurtling towards Klimt. Klimt swung his sword and swatted the approaching blades away, stepping towards the other boy once they were out of his way. "We don't have to fight like this," Klimt pleaded. "This is childish. Please, just-"

He stopped, gasping, as he became aware of a presence behind him. He jumped away from it, narrowly avoiding a blade slashing at his arm. Something else, to his right - he swung his sword and batted another blade away with a metallic _clang._

Damian recalled his three released swords back to him - with a hand gesture, five began floating before him, and lit up before firing beams of light green energy. Klimt broke out into a sprint to avoid them; the beams burnt the grass under his heels as he ran.

He regretted his earlier thoughts made in the heat of the moment - as much as he did want Damian to dismount his high horse, this is not how Klimt wanted such a goal to be achieved. Yet Damian would clearly never listen to words; what was Klimt to do? He wished that the girls were there to help him.

With a cry, Damian launched off the ground, darting towards Klimt, and swung three swords with a flick of his arm. Klimt raised his blade to meet them, and the two glared daggers into each other as their locked swords struggled against each other. Damian smirked to himself, and Klimt frowned back at him.

Something touched his arm and Klimt felt weaker, drained, as though something was now missing from him and he was incomplete. He looked down at his body just as Damian removed his hand from Klimt’s arm, as the grey sheen was fading away from Klimt’s body. His focus removed from struggling against Damian’s weapons, Damian kicked Klimt in the stomach, sending Klimt rolling to the ground, his sword clattering beside him.

Klimt took his blade and stood up, but yelped as one of the swords flew at him, slashing at his arm. Another one slashed at his other arm. He could no longer sense them moments before they made contact, could no longer dodge just out of their way.

A beam fired from one of Damian’s swords sizzled into Klimt’s abdomen, drawing a pained cry from him. Panting, Klimt glanced down at his body - his white Vitality was flickering over his body, warning him that he would soon be depleted of energy. He needed a plan to stop this, before he really got hurt.

He looked up to see Damian sauntering towards him, his blades slowly floating around him. Klimt reached down for his sword - he had an idea.

He inclined his head upwards, peering over Damian’s shoulder into the darkness of the forest. He forced a look of surprise at the nothingness. “Morrigan? Silla?”

Damian turned to look in the same direction. Quickly, Klimt raised his sword and pointed it at Damian. He pressed a button on the hilt, and with a short burst of air, a small dart shot out of the barrel. The dart dug into Damian’s neck, earning a cry from him. “What the-?” Damian yelled, pulling the dart out of his neck with a wince and dropping it to the ground. But it was too late; his eyelids began flickering, and he stumbled on his feet. “What the…” He mumbled again, his voice barely above a whisper. His legs gave out beneath him, and he fell to the ground, his swords clattering around him, his eyes closing as he fell into slumber.

Klimt dropped his sword and released a long breath as he sat back against a tree, still trying to ease the burning in his lungs. After several moments, he had gained his breath back, and he glanced at his phone. It was almost time to meet back with Professor Sardonyx and the rest of the class. He stood up, sheathing Karuma at his hip. He slung one of Damian’s arms over his shoulders, and then reached down for the discarded basket of Violette Berries, slinging it over his free arm. With a sigh, he began walking back the way the duo had come.

He ran into Morrigan and Silla shortly before arriving at the meet up point. When they saw Damian unconscious and slumped against him, and asked him what had happened, he simply said that he would tell them later. The two boys hadn’t exactly been able to meet the professor’s goal of twenty berries before their scuffle, but the girls had collected several extra, which Morrigan snuck into their own basket before the professor arrived.

When Professor Sardonyx had asked what had happened, Klimt made up a story about them accidentally stepping too close to an Adharc’s territory, and that Damian had been knocked unconscious during the ensuing struggle. As he had no serious injuries, Dravena had dismissed them back to their dorm without any further scrutiny.

Silla helped Klimt carry Damian back to his room, laying him on his bed. After the three gathered in the living area, Klimt told them the truth about what had happened in the forest. Morrigan’s eyes were as wide as plates, and Silla was fiddling with her gloves as she frowned. “He attacked you?” Morrigan gasped.

Klimt nodded. “We… got into an argument. He started saying all of these awful things about you again, and I couldn’t stand it anymore. I lost my temper. He called you weak, and he said that he was the only weak one. That seemed to really anger him, and that’s when he challenged me. I didn’t really want to fight, but… I was so aggravated by what he said, I wasn’t thinking properly..”

“How did he fall unconscious like that? He wasn’t really attacked by an Adharc, was he?” Silla asked.

Klimt gestured to the sword at his hip. “My blade, Karuma… It can’t fire bullets, on account of being an ancient weapon, but it can fire darts. One of those kinds of darts contains a sleeping drug - that’s what I used on him, after I’d distracted him.”

“Still… this is bad. Like, really bad.” Morrigan said. “Damie’s always been difficult, but we’ve managed it. But now he’s actually attacked someone. Like, he’s gotten physical with his own teammate. He’s only been getting worse. What do we do?”

“I’m not sure if there’s anything we can do,” Klimt replied. “We can’t simply change anyone’s personality so easily. If there’s a reason for it, none of us know what it is. Maybe that’s just how it’s going to be, with him around.”

Silla shook her head. “No. It must have been something specific that happened at that moment. Damian has been blunt and rude, but he’s never physically attacked his allies before. I believe he is a good person, underneath it all. It had to have been something serious to make him behave like that.”

“Okay, so, what happened right before he got all mad?” Morrigan asked, turning to Klimt.

Klimt frowned as he remembered. “Um… He asked me why I hung around with you so much, because you’d just make me do everything for you. He called you weak, and then I said you weren’t. I said you could learn to be stronger because that’s what the schools are for. He just shrugged that off, which really frustrated me, so I told him that the only weak one was him. After I said that… his whole body became rigid. When he turned to look at me, he was furious. The most furious I’d ever seen him. That’s when he engaged his weapons, and told me he would prove how strong he was.”

“Then that must have been it.” Silla said. “For one reason or another, he despises being seen as weak. Just the word itself against him is enough to infuriate him.”

“So that’s what we have to avoid. Good to know.” Morrigan flopped onto the sofa. “Bit hypocritical of him, though - he calls me weak every day, but when someone throws it back at him, he throws a tantrum.”

“I do want to talk to him about it… but I doubt he would open up to us with something so personal.” Silla said. “I don’t know what else to do.”

“Are you kidding?” Morrigan exclaimed, raising a brow at her. “Out of the three of us, you’d get him to talk. Just do the thing where you hold his hand. How did that start, by the way? I thought he’d hate something like that, but it works every time he gets so wound up, so now you’re holding hands practically every day.”

Silla’s cheeks flushed pink. “It’s just a habit… It helps my brother calm down when he becomes agitated, so I often do it without really thinking.”

Morrigan giggled, and Silla’s blush became almost the same colour as her hair. Klimt decided to save her from any further embarrassment. “It’s late. We should get some sleep. We can deal with Damian tomorrow.”

The girls agreed, and after bidding each other goodnight, they departed to their individual rooms. 

Morrigan sighed after she closed her door. As cheerfully as she had handled things back there, she couldn’t help but be disappointed that her team was still fighting amongst themselves, and that it had escalated to a physical confrontation. She remembered Flint’s words that strong bonds took time to forge, but she had never been the patient type. She was sick of waiting for the four of them to really get along.

She forced herself to stop thinking about it as she prepared for bed. Such terrible thoughts would disturb her sleep, after all, and she couldn’t afford not to get her twelve hours.

**\---**

The next morning was, in a word, awkward. At least, it was from Klimt’s perspective. Damian refused to meet his gaze all morning, and barely acknowledged him when he spoke. Morrigan and Silla did their best to carry on as normal, but it was clear that they were somewhat struggling with the obvious tension.

The girls eventually decided on a plan. They would split up and tackle the boys individually - Morrigan would speak to Klimt, while Silla agreed to deal with Damian.

Morrigan asked Klimt to accompany her into Ardepolis - her monthly allowance from her parents had come through that morning, and she wanted to buy something “cute”. Klimt followed her into an expensive looking clothes shop and watched her sort through the various items for sale.

While she was examining a purple dress, she called to him over her shoulder. “So… do you want to talk a little more about what happened last night?”

Klimt sighed. “Are you upset that we fought? I thought you might be. I’m sorry - I really didn’t want things to go that far. I just… I got lost in the heat of the moment.”

“I know. You said he was saying bad things about me again, right? It’s really sweet that you stuck up for me.” She smiled. “And according to what you said, he did start it… You’re just lucky Professor Sardonyx didn’t catch you. Then you’d really be in trouble.” She sighed. “But if things really did go that way, he might be even worse now.”

“Why? What do you mean?”

“Well, this is Damie, right? You know him; he hates losing. He’s super competitive. Losing to you like he did is bound to make him even more sour. Which might start another fight… Neither of us like it, you know. Silla hates it as much as I do, but she’s too nice to say anything.”

“It won’t start another fight. I promise.” Klimt laid a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry I couldn’t control myself when he was insulting you. But I promise that I will if he starts again. Hopefully it doesn’t come to that, though. Maybe Silla can get through to him, even if only a little.”

Morrigan nodded, and pulled him into a tight hug. Klimt wrapped his arms around her in response. After several seconds, they pulled away from each other. Morrigan took the purple dress off of the display rack. “Come on - there’s a cute skirt I saw over here, and some nice shoes in the footwear section.”

**\---**

Damian had seen through the girls’ strategy - he realised what was going to happen as soon as Morrigan loudly asked Klimt to go clothes shopping with her. After they had left, he followed behind them from a safe distance. As soon as he spotted a suitable alleyway, he ducked into it and sped away from them. He needed somewhere relatively peaceful to sort through his thoughts before Silla found him.

He sat on a bench in the park, which was mercifully mostly empty. He stared down at his phone, which he toyed with in his hands. He had neglected to contact his father since he had just arrived, and it had been a good number of weeks since then. His father should have been getting worried - so why had he not sent any messages?

It’s not that he didn’t care; Damian knew deep down that couldn’t have been it. His father could get absorbed in his work projects from time to time, but even then he would have come out of the trance eventually. This silence for several weeks was beginning to concern him.

_Then again, that’s exactly what I’ve done,_ Damian remembered ruefully. _I don’t have a right to criticise or be worried._

“It’s a pleasant day - why the long face?”

Damian swore loudly as his head jolted towards the voice. Amoveus sat beside him, facing forwards towards the small pond before them. Damian hadn’t even heard him approaching, or sitting down.

Damian cleared his throat. “Um… it’s nothing.”

“Come now, we both now that isn’t true. There’s something on your mind. What’s the harm in telling me?”

_Aside from the fact that you’re the highest authority of the school?_ Damian sighed. “My team and I don’t exactly fit together.” He decided to leave it there; his headteacher didn’t need to know all of the details.

Amoveus chuckled. “Ah, yes. I’ve come across many cases like that in my time. Let me guess,” He peered at Damian with a sideways glance. “They don’t match your lofty standards. You question why I selected the four of you to work together.”

Damian frowned. That is a question he had asked himself many times. “Yeah. Sometimes.”

“I explained it to you on the day, didn’t I? You displayed exemplary teamwork with each other. Your ability to work together and combine your strengths and talents was excellent. You may not yet be able to cooperate in your everyday lives, but when the situation calls for it, you can set your differences aside and work together efficiently.

“You see, I believe that an individual’s true self comes to the surface in a time of urgency. Of danger. No matter their usual demeanour, something else - something beneath that mask - reveals itself when pushed that far. That’s what I saw in you, during your induction mission.”

“Me?”

“In your everyday life - in your classes, with your teammates - you present yourself as an antisocial, crude, insulting and uncooperative brat.” Damian bristled. Amoveus noticed, smiled, and continued. “However, when young Morrigan was about to be taken away by that giant Nephile, never to be seen again, a different side of you emerged. A side of you that immediately took steps to save her, that didn’t hesitate to leap into an endless abyss to catch her. I hear you have done nothing but give her a difficult time since meeting her; yet if you really hated her so, why did you risk your own life to save hers?”

Damian shuffled in his seat, turning away from Amoveus. “Silla asked me to help. Besides, I couldn’t just watch Morrigan die while the others were standing right there.”

“Is that so? Well, regardless, we come back to my earlier point - my belief that an individual’s true self emerges in a time of urgency. That urgency was the threat to Morrigan’s life, and in that situation, your true self emerged - the shy, kind young man who ultimately cares for the lives of others, no matter what his sharp tongue says.”

Damian mumbled into the fur of his collar. Amoveus laughed. “Oh, but I have been rambling. All I ask is that you keep what I’ve said in mind. And…” His smile dropped as his tone became more serious. “I also want you to remember that, no matter what you think, you don’t have to push people away. That you deserve to have people that care about you.”

Damian’s blood ran cold - how had he known about that? The rest, he could have passed off as deductive reasoning on the headmaster’s part. But Damian had never said or even hinted at _that_ idea. He turned towards the other man, a glare in his eyes. “How did-”

There was no one there.

Damian gasped, jumping out of his seat. The space next to him was empty. There were no footprints leading away in the pathway he was stood on. He looked up; no one was walking away either. It was as though the headmaster had vanished into thin air.

“Damian?”

Another voice called out to him, but the gentleness of the voice meant he had no reason to nearly jump out of his skin this time. He wiped away the sudden perspiration that had settled on his forehead before responding. “Here on Morrigan’s orders?”

“It’s not really like that…” Silla replied. “I wanted to talk to you. About last night.”

Sighing, Damian turned around and began walking in the direction of Cricland. Silla walked alongside him, fiddling with her gloves. “I guess I just want to understand why you and Klimt started fighting.” She said.

“It was nothing. I was badmouthing Morrigan, he got mad. The usual.”

“If that’s the source of the conflict between you two, then it’s something we should tackle before it gets worse…”

“Well, I’m trying. I’ve been trying to help Morrigan all this time, but they don’t see it that way. It’s not my fault they don’t accept it.”

Silla forced a smile. “I see what you’re trying to do, Damian. At least, I think I understand. But… maybe this approach of tough love isn’t working because that’s not the kind of person Morrigan is. Maybe it works for you, but it won’t work for everyone. So… if you really want to help her, maybe you could try a different way. Maybe try being more…” She paused to think of the right word. “More gentle. More understanding.”

He shrugged. “I guess.”

Silence fell between the two. Silla had an idea of what to say next, but she debated with herself over whether she should say it. It could have made things worse, or simply just sounded strange. But she had an idea of what made Damian so unapproachable, and she wanted to remedy it, as much as she could.

“And, um,” she began. “None of us think of you as weak.” She saw his shoulders tense, but when he didn’t say anything, she continued. “Not even Klimt. He didn’t mean what he said to you last night - people can say all kinds of things in the heat of the moment. But none of us actually think that. We really just want to try and be friends.”

Damian slowly relaxed, to Silla’s relief. It was a minute or so before he spoke. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he mumbled.

“Huh?” Silla asked, frowning inquisitively. But Damian didn’t elaborate; he simply shook his head, mumbled something unintelligible, and quickened his pace. Silla sped up to keep up with him, but could think of nothing more to say. Perhaps it was better if she left him alone now, she decided.

He seemed agitated, but reluctant to share his thoughts. His hands were stuffed into his pockets. She hesitated at first, but slowly Silla raised her hand and gently laid it upon Damian’s arm - when he didn’t object or pull away, she hooked her hand through his arm and tightened her grip. They continued walking in silence.

She hadn’t gotten to the core of his problems, but she believed that she had made more progress at getting through to him. Morrigan would be happy with that.


	17. Back to Square One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flint makes a troubling revelation to Morrigan and Klimt regarding the kidnappings; Damian appears to be struggling with demons that he is determined to hide from his team...

When Morrigan and Klimt had arrived back at the school, they noticed every student in sight walking towards the main building. “Where are they going?” Morrigan whispered to Klimt.

“How should I know? I’ve been with you this whole time. Let’s just follow them.” Klimt decided. Morrigan led the way, Klimt following behind her, and they followed the crowd to the auditorium. Morrigan scanned the crowd for any sign of Damian or Silla, hoping to reunite with them before whatever was going on occurred. 

Klimt gasped and tugged on Morrigan’s arm. “Look,” he said, pointing to an area in front of them. Morrigan followed the direction of his finger, seeing her brother standing apart from the crowd of students. She grinned as she hurriedly approached him, but slowed down as she got closer. Flint had a somewhat solemn expression, staring at the crowd as though he could see straight through them. His arms were clasped behind his back.

“Flint?” Morrigan said.

Flint’s attention snapped back into reality, and he smiled upon seeing her. “Hey,” he greeted.

“What’s going on?” Klimt asked. “Was there an announcement? We’ve just got back from Ardepolis, so we haven’t heard anything.”

“I can tell.” Flint replied, glancing at the bags that hung from Morrigan’s arms. “A member of the police wants to talk to you all.”

Morrigan and Klimt glanced at each other, frowning. They settled on the edges of the crowd, staying close to Flint, while a brown haired man climbed onto the stage. The talking amongst the students died down as he approached the centre. He turned to them, offering a curt nod.

“Good afternoon,” he greeted them. “My name is Detective Nex Locke - I am a member of the Ardepolis Police Department. You all may have heard a rumour that the kidnappings plaguing the world have come to a standstill - this does appear to be the case. A victim has not been claimed for some time. However, this does not mean that we should relax; we have no way of knowing if this is really the end, or if they will begin again.

“Even with no new victims for quite a while, we are still hard at work in order to determine not only the whereabouts of the victims, but also the identity of their kidnapper. Although we have no leads at present, this will not discourage us. Both the police and the military are doing everything they can on this matter. While we work, I would like to again stress how important it is that you don’t go anywhere alone. Always travel in groups, not just pairs. The larger the group, the safer you are likely to be. We also recommend that you travel with your weapons - I understand they may be quite clunky and unappealing to carry around while spending time with your friends, but it is for your own safety. Should something occur - if the kidnapper returns - do not confront them alone. Alert a senior Hunter as soon as possible.” He nodded again. “Thank you.”

With a flourish of his coat, Nex stepped down from the stage and disappeared into the doors at the back of the room. Anxious murmuring from the students began as they slowly poured out of the room. Instead of following them, Morrigan emerged from the cluster of students and jogged after her brother. “Flint!” She called.

Flint stopped, and turned to face her as she skidded to a halt before him. Klimt had followed her and stood next to her. “What did he mean when he said you guys didn’t have any leads? I thought you had something. Like Galina and that Pryce guy!” Morrigan exclaimed.

“You’ve also looked worried ever since we saw you back there.” Klimt continued. “Is something wrong?”

Flint hesitated for several moments, but when it became clear that neither of his siblings would budge until he spoke, he sighed. “You can tell Damian and Silla, but don’t tell anyone else.” He began in a low voice. “Remember how Marina told us that Apex’s Vitality flashed a pink colour? Well, if Galina or Pryce were Apex, one of their Vitalities would be pink - so I asked Detective Locke to go back to the families and ask them about their Vitality colours. He got back to me with his findings this morning.”

“And?” Morrigan demanded.

“Neither of them fit the bill. Pryce’s Vitality is a green, while Galina’s is an orange.”

The younger two considered this information in silence for several moments. Klimt eventually spoke. “So… that means… Neither of them can be Apex?”

Flint nodded. “That’s what it looks like.” He sighed. “I was so sure we had something - that we finally had a lead. But if it’s neither of them, then… that means Apex’s creator already had a victim before the kidnappings even began. Someone they kidnapped themselves, or someone they already had close to hand. But with no other leads to work from...”

“So we’re right back to square one? After all this time?” Morrigan asked incredulously, her hands on her hips. “That’s so frustrating!”

“You’re telling me,” Flint agreed. He glanced at his watch. “I’d better be getting back to the station. Now that our two leads are no longer being considered, we have to start pulling the overtime to get some answers.”

Flint waved goodbye to the two and left the school grounds. His mood had well and truly plummeted after Nex delivered the bad news to him that morning. He hadn’t even had it in him to fake a smile for his siblings. His shoulders felt tense and heavy - his responsibilities to the worried families was beginning to crush him underfoot.

His phone began vibrating in his pocket. Seeing the caller name on the screen was enough to draw a smile from him. He lifted the phone to his ear. “Hey.”

_“Hey,”_ the voice replied. _“You sound tired. Is everything okay?”_

Flint debated lying. But just considering it didn’t feel right - Coraline could somehow always tell when he wasn’t being truthful, and he didn’t want to upset her by hiding things from her. He wasn’t technically allowed to share details of his work with anyone not involved, but he’d already told Morrigan and Klimt; what harm would one more do?

“Two of our big leads went cold. They were our only leads, really, and losing them… It’s a huge blow to the investigation. We don’t really have any ideas on where to progress from here. How can we track down these people when we have no evidence as to where they went?” He vented. “Much less track down the culprit when we have no clues about them - they just appear and vanish without leaving anything behind.”

_“I’m sorry,”_ Coraline replied. _“I wish I could be there to help… But you’re doing the best job you can with what you have. You need to remember that.”_

“I know. I just feel like I could be doing more - should be doing more. These families are relying on us to get their loved ones back, and we have to tell them that we have no idea what’s going on. I just don’t want to let them down.”

_“You’re not. You’re doing the best for them, and that’s all they can ask of you. This situation is difficult for everyone - you shouldn’t beat yourself up.”_ She sighed. _“Hearing you so upset and not being able to do anything about it feels awful.”_

He chuckled. “You’re helping, trust me. How are things on your end? Everything going okay?”

_“Yeah, everything’s fine. Just two more episodes to shoot before we wrap up. I should be back by next month.”_ She gasped. _“We should plan something to celebrate. We could go out somewhere fancy, maybe?”_

“I’d like that. Maybe I could introduce you to my family, too. But only if you’re ready; I don’t want to pressure you. To be honest, I just can’t wait to see Morrigan’s face when she sees you.”

Coraline laughed. _“That does sound nice… Yeah. I’m ready. I can’t wait.”_

“Neither can I.” Flint stopped in front of the police station. “I should go - got a lot of ground to cover in this case.”

_“Don’t go stressing yourself out, mister. You hear me? I’m always on the other end of the phone if you want to talk. I love you.”_

Flint smiled. “I love you too. I’ll talk to you later.”

**\---**

“Now, are there any questions before we leave today?” Dove asked, glancing around at her students.

One hand shot into the air. At Dove’s welcoming smile, Morrigan spoke. “Why is everyone’s Vitality all different colours, Professor Granger?”

Dove clapped her hands together in front of her chest. “That’s a very good question. Unfortunately, nobody exactly knows why - some say that such colours are the colours of our very souls, but if there’s any reasoning or meaning behind them, we don’t yet know what that meaning is.”

Morrigan sighed. “I hate not knowing the answer to things.”

A silence followed, as the three subconsciously expected and awaited a sharp comment from Damian. When the silence continued and no scathing insult came, they glanced at him. Damian was staring intently at the desk in front of him, one hand resting against his cheek, the other furiously spinning a pen. He appeared completely unaware of the environment around him. Morrigan turned to Silla, but the only thing Silla could do in response was offer a shrug of her shoulders.

After Dove dismissed the class, the four walked to their dorm room. Morrigan devolved into a panic along the way, suddenly remembering the Nephile Biology homework that she had yet to finish, and begged the others to help her.

“And then there’s this one,” she exclaimed, jabbing her finger at a place on the page before her. “I’ve never heard of this thing before. How am I supposed to know where it lives?”

“What is it?” Damian called to her, momentarily stopping his mindless scrolling on his phone.

Morrigan hesitated, staring at him with widened eyes, before snapping back to her work. “Oh, uh… It’s a, uh…” She peered closer at the page. “C-Car... Carnedor? Is that how you say it?”

Damian’s stomach flipped. His phone almost slipped out of his grip as the hand holding it began to tremble. He coughed as he sat up. “Oh, they… They live in Ustrad. They can’t survive in warm climates.”

Morrigan’s pen quickly moved along the paper. “Okay, one more question. What do they eat?”

Damian’s stomach turned again, so violently he thought he might throw up. He used his sleeve to wipe the sweat from his forehead. “People,” he muttered. “They eat people.”

Morrigan shuddered as she wrote. “So gross,” she whispered. “Okay, that’s everything! Thanks, Damie!”

Silla rose from her seat. “Are you alright, Damian? You’ve grown pale.”

“I’m fine,” he snapped, wincing as he did so. He saw the flash of shock in Silla’s eyes and wanted to apologise, but the words became stuck in his throat. He sighed. “I’m going to bed. Night.”

Damian dismissed himself from the room, stepping into his bedroom and shutting the door behind him. 

Silla lowered herself back into her seat, frowning as she stared after Damian. “He’s been off since yesterday,” Klimt remarked. “This is beyond his usual behaviour - he looked actually physically ill.”

“Maybe he’s just tired.” Morrigan suggested. “He might be right as rain in the morning!”

“I hope so,” Klimt replied.

**-** **\--**

_When Damian opened his eyes again, he was not facing the wall of his bedroom at Cricland. He was staring at a blanket of snow, and a dark sky above him. He pushed himself up off of the ground, frowning at the snow. He lifted his hand, yet there was no print in the snow where his hand had been. He rose to his feet and glanced around. Despite the falling snow, he didn’t feel cold._

_“Damie!”_

_He slowly turned towards the chipper voice. A girl his age stood before him, smiling. She had long blonde hair that fell over her right shoulder, and brown eyes._

_He stared at her, raising a hand to touch her arm. Only one word managed to leave his mouth, barely above a whisper. “Ella…?”_

_Ella giggled and began walking away, glancing over her shoulder to beckon him to follow her. Damian tried, but his legs were frozen. He stared down at his legs and grunted with effort, but no matter how hard he tried, he was stuck in place._

_A low growl made him look up again. Ella was standing several feet away, still smiling, and a shadow towered over her. The figure was tall, with jagged antlers pointing out of its head. Its face resembled a dog’s, and its arms were long. There was little skin on its chest, barely covering its ribcage and the muscles that surrounded it._

_Damian gaped at the Carnedor._

_“Ella…!” He cried. “Behind you…!”_

_Ella didn’t move. The Carnedor clutched her in its large hands, lifting her off the ground and holding her horizontally. Its mouth stretched wide and clamped down on Ella’s body with a sickening crunch. Blood spattered all over its teeth, over her clothes, and over the snow beneath her. A strangled cry rose from Damian’s throat._

Everything disappeared as Damian jolted up. He stumbled out of bed, nearly tripping over the duvet. He panted as he stared wide eyed around the dark room. He shivered, and his whole body was covered in sweat. Slowly, eventually, his breathing became even. He staggered over to the window and peered out. He glanced at the clock on his bedside table - one in the morning. 

How generous of his mind to wait several hours before plaguing him with a nightmare, he thought - it was normally near instantaneous.

He half-heartedly slammed a fist onto his windowsill. _Don’t look at her picture; don’t look at her picture._ He failed - his eyes drifted over the smiling blonde girl in the picture frame. As soon as he made eye contact, the tears spilled over out of his eyes and rolled down his cheeks.

He sunk into sitting on his bed and held his head in his hands as he sobbed.


	18. A Haunted Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian continues to struggle silently with whatever plagues his mind, with his teammates looking on helplessly - and the return of their foe disturbs him even further...

Apex watched as their master finished the last of their repairs. The process may not have taken quite so long as it did, if their master didn’t decide to also add some upgrades to Apex’s arsenal. “You’ve been as good as useless so far,” Mr. Fabricant had complained. “So I have to make you much more capable.”

Apex accepted the scathing criticism without complaint. Without so much as even a twitch.

While Mr. Fabricant had his back to them, Apex examined their arm, turning their hand over to stare at their palm. A wire for wrapping around victims had been inserted into a compartment, to be fired when convenient. Apex had watched as their master had taken several yellow stones, broken them into smaller pieces, and attached those pieces to the wire. He hadn’t explained just what those stones added to the wire.

“Well, now that you’re up and running again, you can finally grab that boy for me.” Mr. Fabricant told them. “You know the one. Bring him here.”

Mr. Fabricant’s knees buckled underneath him as he grunted, struck again by another headache. This one was more severe than the last; one hand held his head while the other gripped the edge of the table for support.

In the dark space that was Mr. Fabricant’s mind, his hostage glared back at him. In this state, Ezudus didn’t seem to be a middle aged, greying and mild mannered man. He appeared younger and more vicious, more alive than he had been in recent memory. He even surprised himself at that moment. “I won’t let you,” he growled. “I won’t let you harm him…!”

“There’s nothing you can do to stop me.” Mr. Fabricant muttered back, forcing a sadistic grin despite the head splitting pain. “I’m going to bring him back here, and I’m going to make you watch when I tear him apart-”

The pain increased, and Mr. Fabricant lost his grip on the table, falling to the ground on his knees. Ezudus wasn’t completely sure just how he was causing this pain, but as long as it worked, he didn’t need to question it. “I don’t know what you’ve been doing all this time, but I won’t allow it to continue any longer. Whatever it is, you have to stop…!”

Mr. Fabricant chuckled. That chuckle rose in volume until his laughter echoed throughout the empty space. “Stop…? Now why would I do that? You should be grateful - I’m taking the puny specimens that are humans and improving them. I’m granting them capabilities that they would never have been able to possess otherwise. I’m going to make everyone as amazing as I am!”

Ezudus backed away. “Amazing…? You’re nothing of the kind… You… You’re just a monster!”

Ignoring the old man and snapping his attention back to the real world, Mr. Fabricant looked up to see Apex standing over him, a peculiar look in their eyes. “What are you still doing here? Didn’t I tell you to go out and get that boy? Go find him and bring him to me!”

Apex turned and left the room. Ezudus cried out, raising a hand after them as they vanished, knowing all the while that anything he tried was pointless. His previous energy evaporated and was replaced by the same hopelessness he had been feeling the whole time since the robot he created had turned against him.

_ He’s going to get hurt,  _ Ezudus lamented, tears springing to his eyes.  _ And it’s going to be my fault. _

**\---**

Vennox stood to the side as he watched his students fight amongst themselves. Arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the wall, his gaze passed over each of them in turn.

He paid particular attention to the three students that made up the rest of his sister’s team. Silla had only ever spoken of them in a positive light, but Vennox knew her better than anyone; he knew that she would try to cover up any problems. She would never voice any concerns unless they were incredibly serious, or if he prodded her enough. So it was up to him to discern how the team fared together, and if they were struggling with any roadblocks.

Morrigan was obnoxious and noisy. She had a powerful weapon at her disposal, but seemed to have no idea how to use it most of the time - some of her swings were clumsy and grossly miscalculated, and she never resorted to hand to hand combat. She was better at shooting, but hardly remarkable. She was alright for her age, of course, but was nowhere near top of the class. She had no idea how to plan ahead or fight intelligently. But she was extremely friendly, and - Vennox had to admit - that friendliness had helped Silla open up a little more. He had noticed such a change in his sister, even if it was a small one, and surmised that Morrigan was to thank.

Silla had told him that she was most similar to Klimt, and Vennox guessed that similarity had helped them bond somewhat. The two seemed to work together to keep their more volatile teammates in check. Klimt was a capable combatant; although his weapon was much more ancient than most others wielded by students, he accounted for it by being swift on his feet. Vennox watched several students having a difficult time trying to hit Klimt during a practice battle, as though Klimt could sense his opponent’s movements before such movements were even made. He was incredibly introverted without Morrigan to speak for him, but he appeared somewhat more relaxed around a kindred spirit such as Silla.

Damian was one of Vennox’s best students. He was strong and skilled for someone his age. He was calm and collected, far from being immature or easily startled. He controlled a versatile weapon, and he had a good head for strategy. On the other hand, he was aloof and distant with his teammates, clashing often with Morrigan, and coming across as uncooperative. Silla appeared to be trying to help him out of his shell, which Vennox was surprised to see - the Silla of a year or so previously would never have done such a thing. In turn, Damian didn’t appear to cause any problems for Silla either, at least as far as Vennox could see.

So the sight before Vennox somewhat concerned him.

For the sparring matches, Damian had been paired up with Elas. Marina was sat at the end of the room, arms resting on her knees as she watched the various different fights around the room, her gaze occasionally wandering to Elas just to check on him.

Their blades clashed together furiously. Damian released his blades from the lock and swung them down on Elas, quickly and repeatedly - Elas raised his sword to block the barrage of blades, gritting his teeth with the effort.

Damian raised an arm to unleash yet another assault of blades upon the prince, but Elas reacted to the opening by ducking down and swinging his sword across Damian’s abdomen. Damian grunted and stumbled back, glaring down at his hands at his Vitality flickered purple over his body.

Normally, he would have been able to avoid or parry that blow with little effort. Damian appeared to be out of sorts on that day, and it was interfering with his performance in class.

“Is Damian alright?” Vennox asked his sister, who was seated on the wall next to him, curling strands of her hair over her finger.

Silla turned to Vennox. “Oh, um… I’m not sure, truthfully. Something has definitely been wrong for several days now. Last night, he looked awfully ill - we hoped some sleep would help, but that doesn’t seem to have been the case. In fact, he seems a little worse than he was last night.”

“But he hasn’t told you what’s causing it?”

Silla shook her head. “No… and I’ve been hesitant to ask, because I don’t want to pry. But we are worried about him... “

Vennox’s gaze turned back to Damian. He called out, stopping the sparring match, and told the two that they were done for now. Nodding, the boys stepped away from their positions to find somewhere out of the arena to sit.

Damian shuffled to an isolated spot where very few people were sat, deliberately avoiding his teammates. They would probably want to know why he was acting the way he was, but they didn’t need to know. He didn’t want to give them something to laugh at.

“You’re a pretty good fighter.”

Damian startled at the carefree voice of Marina, who was regarding him with a loose smile. “At least, you’re pretty good normally,” she continued. “So what was that?”

Grumbling something incomprehensible, Damian looked away, running a hand through his hair.

“You were too aggressive - you left yourself open way too much, which meant you got hit. I know you; you should have been able to counter that no problem. Something must really be wrong to throw you off your game this much.” She leaned forward. “Am I going to be lucky enough to be able to hear what it is?”

Damian remained silent. He stared at the ground in front of him, the sounds of his sparring classmates muffling as he tuned them out. “How did you come to be so strong?” He eventually choked out.

Marina’s smile fell and was replaced by a bewildered frown. “Well, that’s not what I was expecting,” she commented. “But, well… if you really want to know, I was just born talented. Well, that, and it was a hell of a lot of gruelling training. They don’t go easy on you at Krimholdt - especially not if you want to make it into the military. It was practically all I spent time on. I trained, then left to find some Nephiles to beat up to put my training into practice.” She paused, before her voice took on a softer tone. “Why?”

“Just wondering.” Damian replied, perhaps too quickly.

Marina watched him for several more moments before her frown returned. “Hey… this is a super weird question, but… have we met before?”

It was Damian’s turn to be confused. “What? Of course we have.”

“No, I mean, before we met when I first arrived. It’s just hit me that you look kind of familiar, like I’ve seen you before all this kidnapping stuff.”

“Well, I haven’t seen you before now.”

“Oh.” She shrugged. “Maybe I’m thinking of a different person. But I’m not often wrong.” She stood up and stretched. “Looks like class is over. You should get back to your team.”

Damian groaned. He really didn’t have the energy to face them - not at that moment, at least. All he wanted to do was go back to his room and stay there in peace. Slipping into sleep for several hours sounded nice. He could barely keep his eyes open.

The four were quiet as they walked back to their dorm. Morrigan attempted to make conversation, but Klimt lightly nudged her and shook his head, signalling to her that it wasn’t the right time. As soon as Damian stepped inside, he crossed the room to his bedroom, disappearing through the door.

It hit him then that he hadn’t cleaned in a while. Books and clothes were left haphazardly on the floor and on his desk. His bed hadn’t been made properly - he hadn’t bothered when he woke up that morning. 

Damian slung his weapon off his back and dropped it by the door. He kicked off his shoes before settling on his bed. As soon as his head hit the pillow, his eyes were already drooping shut. An hour or so of sleep wouldn’t hurt anyone, he reckoned.

**\---**

Morrigan knocked on Damian’s door for the third time. She whined as her attempt at grabbing his attention went ignored yet again. Several hours had passed since Damian had stormed across to his bedroom and shut the rest of them out. The remaining three were about to go to the dining hall for dinner, and didn’t want to leave without checking on Damian.

“I don’t think he’s going to be answering,” Klimt said, laying a hand on Morrigan’s shoulder. “Maybe we should leave him alone and come back later.”

“But leaving him alone is all we’ve been doing, and it clearly isn’t doing anything.” Morrigan sighed. “Whatever. If he wants to sulk for some reason, he can. We’ve tried our best.”

With that decision made, the three left their dorm and settled in the dining hall. None of them spoke to each other as they ate; even Morrigan kept to herself.

Silla finished eating the earliest. “I’m going to go see my brother,” she told her teammates as she rose from her seat. “I’ll see you two later. If you hear from Damian while I’m gone… could you tell me what happens, please?”

“We will.” Klimt promised. Silla nodded her thanks and left the dining hall, crossing the courtyard to the faculty offices. She reached the end of the first floor corridor, knocking on the wooden door. Moments later, it opened, and her brother stood on the other side.

Wordlessly, Vennox stood aside to allow Silla inside. They settled into armchairs facing each other. It was Vennox who asked the first question. “Anything about Damian?”

Silla shook her head. “He went into his room immediately after we got back from your class, and we haven’t heard from him since. We tried knocking on his door before we left for dinner, but we didn’t get a response.”

“Well, hopefully, whatever’s going on with him won’t affect you. I know you like trying to help people, but you can only go so far. Especially if they aren’t responding to you. You have to look after yourself first and foremost.”

Silla looked down at her hands, avoiding her brother’s gaze. “But… he’s suffering, and I can’t simply stand by while he’s hurting. I have to be able to do something.”

“He hasn’t given you any indication that he actually wants or even needs your help. Until that does happen, prioritise the things you can do. Focus on yourself, your teammates and your studies.”

Silla nodded, but she still wasn’t convinced, even if it was Vennox giving her this talk. Whatever was plaguing Damian was a problem she might be able to fix, or at least help a little. He had been so nice to her when they first met - helping her with her luggage, allowing her to sit next to him on the airship… These were acts of kindness she had to repay.

Yet she could do nothing for him at the moment, and it caused an empty, hollow feeling within her. She hated it more than she could express with words.

**\---**

It was dark outside when Damian opened his eyes again. He sat up and turned towards the window. Several stars shone brightly in the night sky, with the moonlight illuminating the courtyard below.

He swore to himself as he clambered out of bed; he hadn’t intended to sleep for so long. His stomach grumbled loudly as he stood at the window. He realised that he was hot, and sweating. He needed some fresh air.

Slipping his shoes onto his feet and his weapon onto his back, Damian left his room and slipped out of his dorm. Ducking out of sight of security cameras, he snuck around the back of the main building. The cool breeze was a welcome feeling onto his skin.

He stood there, not knowing exactly for how long, staring up at the sky and the stars.

His sister loved the stars, and the moon. Damian remembered countless nights when they were children when she would sit at the window, staring at the moon, while Damian kept trying to convince her to just go to sleep already. On other occasions, she had dragged him and their father out to look for fallen stars, believing that they would be nearby for her to pick up and collect. She had burst into tears when their father had first told her that picking up a star was technically impossible.

Her favourite, though, was a phenomenon known only as the Goddess Light. The light was a string of various different colours making movements and shapes in the sky itself. It was as though a rainbow began to move around in the sky. The more devout individuals believed that the display of light was some kind of message or conjuration from the goddess Kaliara. Many travelled to their country of Ustrad to see it.

His sister had been going to look at the Goddess Light when she was-

The grass behind Damian crinkled, and he turned, expecting to see a teacher having caught him in the act of breaking curfew. His stomach dropped at a sight far worse.

Apex.

Apex had approached him from behind, sword in hand.


	19. Close to Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apex strikes again, claiming another victim, and leaving those affected in a state of frenzied worry...

Apex stood there, watching Damian from under their visor. Their sword was gripped tightly in their hand. Damian activated his weapon, blades circling him as he glared at his target. For several moments, nothing happened. The two simply watched each other.

Apex tilted their head to the left, still watching him. Damian frowned, but refused to let his guard down. Still, Apex did not act. They did nothing; they simply stood and watched Damian with stoic eyes.

“What, are you here to kidnap me?” Damian called to them. “Get on with it, then.”

Nothing. A blank stare was his response.

Damian sighed - may as well throw the first stone. He flung four of his swords forward. Apex leapt into the air, the swords blurring past under their feet, and raised their arm. Beams of a pink colour shot out of their palm; Damian ran out of their trajectory before they made contact with him. 

He recalled his swords and levelled them before him. Energy beams shot out from the tip of the swords. Apex darted around in the air, watching as every beam passed them by, until one hit them and knocked them off balance. Apex fell several centimetres before catching themselves and making themselves levitate again.

Damian positioned two of his swords behind him, the thrusters in the swords releasing a stream of energy that launched him into the air. He swung another collection of swords in front of him, which Apex parried with their own blade. Their swords were caught in a lock as they struggled to overpower the other. Damian found himself glaring into Apex’s eyes.

There was something familiar about them. The realisation somewhat scattered his attention from pushing against Apex’s sword with his full strength.

Apex noticed his slight relaxation and raised a leg to kick Damian in the stomach. With a grunt, Damian was hurtled to the ground, his swords clattering around him. He pushed himself up off of the ground.

While Damian was distracted, something wrapped around him and sent an electric current coursing through his body. He cried out as his body convulsed, and his legs gave out under him, sending him crashing backwards to the ground. No matter how much he struggled, the wire binding his aching body remained.

A shadow descended over him as Apex approached and stared down at him. Damian returned the favour, glaring fiercely back at the robot. Apex raised their foot and brought it down on Damian’s head, sending his vision into darkness.

**\---**

“This is getting ridiculous now,” Morrigan fumed. “He still isn’t opening up? Is he even awake yet? We’re going to be late for class if he keeps this up!”

Klimt and Silla stood behind her, glancing at each other but unsure of what to say. The next morning had arrived as any other morning, but Damian had still failed to appear in front of them. They were beginning to get extremely concerned; Damian had never been this late in preparing for class before.

Morrigan sighed and backed away from Damian’s bedroom door. Her hand was sore from knocking against the glass. “Well, I’ve tried. We’ll just have to go along without him.” She turned to leave their dorm. Silla went to follow her, but stopped when she noticed that Klimt had not followed after them. He continued staring at Damian’s door.

“We should check his room.” Klimt suggested. “I… have a bad feeling.”

“A bad feeling?” Silla repeated, watching Klimt approach the door. His hand clasped the door knob and twisted, and he pushed the door open with ease. 

“Unlocked,” he muttered, and stepped into the room. Silla and Morrigan followed after him.

The room was rather untidy, which surprised each of them - Damian had struck them as the clean type. But what surprised them more was the fact that Damian was nowhere to be found. “H-He’s not even in here?!” Morrigan exclaimed.

Silla approached the bed and ran her hand along the sheets. “The sheets are a little crumpled, but other than that, the bed is made up… Damian never went to bed last night. And if his door is unlocked…”

“He left and never came back.” Klimt concluded. “But where would he be going in the middle of the night?”

Morrigan’s shoulders went rigid, raising her fists to her chest. “Oh, Goddess… Guys, what if it was Apex? What if Apex took him? I-I have to call Flint-!”

Before either of her teammates could speak, Morrigan plucked her phone out of her pocket and rushed out of the room. Klimt and Silla could hear her raised voice and her heels clicking against the wooden floor as she paced the room. Once she had finished her call with her brother, Morrigan re-entered the room. “Okay, he’s on his way. He wants us to stay here, so we can talk in private…”

Klimt stepped forward and wrapped an arm around Morrigan’s shoulders, gently guiding her down into a seat on the couch. “Try to stay calm,” he advised her. “There’s nothing to suggest Apex is involved in this.”

“But this is just like all the others! They all vanished and no one knew why! This is exactly like that…!”

Silla sat on Morrigan’s other side. “We should wait until we’ve spoken to your brother before we decide what to do next. But everything’s going to be okay. Damian is strong; no matter what’s happened, I believe he’ll be alright.”

Morrigan nodded, pulling her knees close to her chest. Silla suppressed a sigh lest she let on how uneasy she actually felt. Damian was strong - she hadn’t been lying about that. But she had learned better than to hold hope for a situation that may not end happily.

Flint arrived twenty minutes later, and immediately made his way to the dorms upon entering school grounds. He knocked on the front door and was let into the main room by Klimt. He settled into a chair opposite the three. “I’m going to need to hear everything that happened yesterday.”

Morrigan had a vacant look in her eyes, rubbing her right thumb in a circle on the palm of her left hand - a nervous habit Klimt recognised well enough. “Damian’s been out of sorts for a few days now,” he began, placing a hand on Morrigan’s arm. “He’s been even more closed off and distant than usual. He’s been pale and looked nervous most of the time. Last night, he went to bed earlier than usual last night, and then when we knocked on his door this morning, he didn’t answer. I had a bad feeling about just leaving, so I wanted to check his room… We found his door unlocked.”

“His bed is somewhat crumpled, but hasn’t been properly slept in, so we think Damian didn’t properly go to bed last night.” Silla continued. “So he must have left sometime in the night, and just never came back.”

“Did he ever talk about what had been making him so unsettled?” Flint asked.

Klimt shook his head. “Damian isn’t really the talkative type… Especially about himself. We don’t really know anything about him. We asked him a couple of times if he was okay, but he just said he was, and that was that.”

Flint nodded slowly. “Okay… Well, with all of that in mind, it is seeming more likely that Apex is involved. This does match their MO of targeting young people during the night. I need to call for backup, to help search his room. I’ll let you know if I have any more questions for you.” His gaze turned to his sister, and his expression softened. He leaned over and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Hey. We’re going to do everything in our power to find him, okay? I know you’re worried about him, but I’m going to do everything I can to bring him back.”

Morrigan nodded, pushing a small smile onto her face. Flint dismissed them to attend their classes for the day - they snuck into Ianto’s lecture several minutes late. Marina gave them a curious look as she watched them sink into seats at the back of the room, but said nothing and focused on the front of the room.

Elas, meanwhile, found his attention straying several times as he pondered over what could have upset the three so much. Morrigan in particular was restless and distraught about something. He would have to speak to her; after she had done so much for him through her kindness, he had to return the favour and assist her in her time of need.

Once the class had been dismissed, Ianto called to the three and asked them to stay behind for a few minutes. Elas left the room, but stayed close to the door on the outside - he had been taught that eavesdropping was an unbecoming activity, but he had to learn what was so upsetting to his friend, and Marina wasn’t going to be reporting it.

“I noticed you guys came in a bit late today. That’s not like you. Is everything alright?” Ianto asked. He paused as his eyes passed over the three of them. “And where’s Damian?”

Morrigan immediately burst into tears. Elas watched Ianto’s expression change from neutral to horrified in a flash. Klimt pulled Morrigan into a hug, allowing her to sob into his shoulder. Seemingly unable to think of anything else to do, Ianto pulled a drawer in his desk open, rummaged in it, and pulled out a box of tissues, placing them on his desk and pushing them closer to Morrigan. Klimt muttered his thanks while withdrawing several tissues from the box and offering them to Morrigan.

Silla stepped forward, fiddling with her gloves. “Damian… He appears to have become one of the victims of the kidnappings. He vanished overnight, and Captain Astarte questioned us this morning, before we could come to class. That’s why we were rather late.”

“What?” Ianto gasped. That would have explained Morrigan’s current state - she must have been thinking the absolute worst. “I can’t believe it… Does the headmaster know?”

“I don’t think so,” Klimt replied, gently rubbing Morrigan’s back. “Flint left pretty much as soon as we told him what happened.”

“Then… Then I’d better tell him.” Ianto decided. “Off you go. I don’t want to keep you any longer. And, um…” He offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I’m sure everything will turn out okay. Damian’s a strong lad.”

Klimt nodded and guided Morrigan out of the room, Silla following closely behind them. Sighing, Ianto picked up his phone and dialled Fenmore’s number. He spoke before Fenmore could. “There’s been another kidnapping. Damian Archambault. You need to tell Mr. Izolin.”

**\---**

Apex descended from the sky, landing in the snow and pushing the door open to get inside the building before them. Carrying the still unconscious Damian in their arms, they headed straight for their master’s laboratory. They heard the shifting and clinking of several tools as they approached.

Mr. Fabricant raised his gaze upon hearing approaching footsteps, and for once saw something that didn’t earn a scowl or sarcastic remark from him. “So you’re still good for something, after all. Go put him in the other room until he wakes up. Make sure to restrain him so he doesn’t get away.”

Apex left the room to carry out their new orders. Mr. Fabricant turned back to his operating table and threw a sheet over his newly completed project - another soldier to add to his army. The boy would be next, but he wished to speak to him first. This boy was particularly special, after all, and Mr. Fabricant wanted to toy with him before making him the next weapon in his arsenal.

His head screamed with pain again. Mr. Fabricant barely suppressed a cry as his legs gave out under him - he managed to balance himself against the table before falling to his knees completely. Gritting his teeth, he mumbled several curses under his breath for the old fool that was trying to usurp him.

“You can’t stop me,” he snapped at Ezudus. “I’m going to rip that boy to pieces and turn him into a killing machine, and I’ll make you watch every single second of it.”


	20. A Not So Happy Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian comes face to face with the man responsible for creating Apex and the subsequent kidnappings, while the remainder of his team are questioned about his disappearance...

Slowly, Damian opened his eyes. He grunted, pain shooting through his body, as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. His arms were behind his back; he tried pulling them away, but they stayed put - pressure around his wrists told him they were bound behind his back and attached to something.

The room around him was dark, almost pitch black. He could tell his eyepiece had been taken from him - normally, he would have been able to get a visual of the room even in complete darkness. He would have to settle with his natural adjustment to the dark. A distant light from somewhere else made some shapes somewhat visible, but it was impossible to tell what those shapes were. Tables, perhaps? 

A door creaked open, spilling light into the room. Damian winced and turned away from the sudden illumination. The lights in the room flickered on, and footsteps slowly approached him. When the burning behind his eyes faded away, Damian opened them and glanced around again.

The walls of the room were grey; the vinyl floor below him was cold. The shapes did turn out to be tables, of a kind. They looked more like workbenches. The room was dreary and lifeless, and yet held a sense of familiarity to Damian.

The footsteps stopped, and Damian glared up at the figure casting a shadow over him. The angle of the fluorescent lights overhead made it impossible to discern any features of the figure. The only thing Damian could see clearly was a dull red light near their face.

They leaned closer towards him, their face still covered by shadow. “Hmm… Young, good physical condition… No wounds or injuries. Yes, you’ll do quite nicely. What a relief that Apex didn’t break you.”

“So… you’re Apex’s master?” Damian snapped. “You’re behind all of these kidnappings?”

The figure sighed. “I’m getting a little sick of answering the same questions over and over,” They retreated back a step, and their features became visible to Damian. The organic side of the man’s face showed a middle aged man with a blue eye and brown greying hair framing his face. The red light was where the other blue eye should have been.

Mr. Fabricant began pacing in front of his hostage, the tails of his lab coat flapping. “It shouldn’t have taken as long as it did to get my hands on one of you, but I suppose late is better than never. Isn’t that something you say? You and your friends appeared to be so promising for my future developments - I would have gone out and done the job myself, but it would be a little difficult to go unnoticed.”

Damian said nothing. He stared wide eyed at the man standing over him.

Mr. Fabricant stopped in front of Damian and smirked, leaning closer to him. “What’s wrong, boy? Don’t you have any words of greeting for your father?”

**\---**

Silla watched Morrigan pick at her food on the other side of the table. The guitarist occasionally shovelled food into her mouth, but mostly pushed the remnants of her meal around with her fork. Her other hand was pressed up against her cheek.

Silla couldn’t think of anything to say to her. To either of them. All she could do was offer encouragement and assurance that Damian was going to be alright, but she was hardly sure if she believed it herself. No one knew who Apex was, and no one knew who created them or why they were kidnapping so many people. Furthermore, none of those people had returned. Considering such facts, the chances of Damian’s safe return were logically incredibly slim.

That wasn’t to say Silla didn’t dearly hope for his return. He was all she had been thinking about ever since discovering his empty room. She wasn’t as devout to her religion as others may be, but she still found herself praying to The Divine Kaliara to deliver Damian out of harm’s way, or to at least protect him until he could be safe.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a figure moving towards them. A young man, clad in green military uniform, was approaching them. Klimt noticed him too, and lightly nudged Morrigan’s arm and nodded at him to direct her line of sight towards him.

The man stopped and saluted. “Sorry to bother you, miss,” he said. “But Captain Astarte has requested your presence down at the police station. He’d like your friends to come along, too.”

Morrigan frowned. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Detective Locke wants to speak to you, miss. Ask you about your friend Damian.”

The three exchanged a look before rising from their seats and following the private out of the dining hall. A black car sat in the courtyard, where another private sat in the driver’s seat. The man opened the door to allow the three of them to climb into the vehicle, before walking around the front of the car to sit in the passenger seat. Morrigan sighed as the engine roared to life. “We’ve already answered Flint’s questions.” She moaned.

“Maybe Detective Locke has something new for us.” Klimt suggested. Morrigan said nothing in return as she leaned her head against the window to watch the scenery fly by as they drove.

They parked at the police station ten minutes later. The three climbed out of the car and allowed the private to escort them inside. Flint stood next to another man that they recognised as Nex. The private saluted at his superior. “Ms. Astarte and her friends for you, sir.”

“Thank you.” Flint nodded, dismissing the private. He waited until the private had left before speaking again. “Sorry to bug you guys again. But Detective Locke wanted to speak to you personally.”

Nex stepped forward. “I’ve been informed about your teammate. I know you’re all worried about him, so acting now gives us our best chance of finding him. I’ll talk to you one at a time, if that’s alright by you. Ms. Thabine?”

Silla startled at the sudden address. Almost instinctively, she began fiddling with her gloves. “Yes?”

“I’d like to speak to you first, if that’s not an issue.”

“Oh, um… no, it isn’t.”

Silla offered a smile to Morrigan and Klimt before following Nex away from the foyer. Nex led her into a small interview room, with only a table and two chairs on either side. Silla settled into one of the chairs, declining Nex’s offer of a beverage. The detective sat opposite her, placing a notebook on the table and taking the cap off of a pen.

“The last time you saw Damian was last night, correct?” Nex asked. “What happened?”

“Damian has been very unsettled for several days now.” Silla began. “He’s always been quiet and somewhat distant, but he seemed even more frustrated by something. After a while, it turned into a deep depression. He became very tired. After attending our Physical Combat class, we went back to our dorm room, and Damian went into his room and didn’t come out for the rest of the evening. He didn’t come out to go down to dinner with us, and we didn’t want to force him by walking into his room uninvited. We assumed he had gone to bed. It was when we didn’t see him the next morning that we became concerned.”

Nex was scribbling in his notebook. “Did you enter his room then?”

“Yes. We were about to leave to attend our History class, but Klimt suggested we check Damian’s room. The door was unlocked, and the bed hadn’t been properly slept in - that’s when we concluded that he must have left in the night and never came back. Morrigan then called her brother, and he arrived to speak to us.”

Nex nodded. “You mentioned Damian’s shift in behaviour. Did he ever talk about anything that was bothering him?”

Silla shook her head. “No. Damian doesn’t really talk about himself at all. Morrigan asked him about his family once, and he got quite angry with her. He’s never said anything to any of us.”

Nex looked up at her. “Is there anything that would make you think that maybe Damian left of his own accord? Given what you know of him, does that sound like a possibility to you?”

Silla paused as she gave the idea some thought. Eventually, she shook her head. “No. No matter what happens, that sounds very uncharacteristic of him. Although I admit I don’t know him very well… I don’t believe he would do something like that.”

Nex nodded to himself, rising from his seat and opening the door for Silla. “I believe that’s everything. Thank you, Ms. Thabine. Could you go and tell Mr. Vortex I’d like to speak to him next, please?”

Silla nodded and left the room, hurrying down the corridor back to the reception of the station. Klimt left to take her place in the interview room, although he had to be pried out of Morrigan’s grip first. Silla sat next to Morrigan and placed a hand on the other girl’s arm, acting as a comfort in Klimt’s place until he returned.

Nex asked much the same questions, although his next interviewee was somewhat less serene as Silla had been. He was agitated and anxious, but doing his best to hide it - no doubt a side effect of being separated from his closest friend when they needed each other the most. Klimt gave him similar answers, and Nex dismissed him and asked him to call Morrigan along.

Morrigan had refused to be questioned without someone to sit in with her. Nex couldn’t allow Silla or Klimt to fill such a role - witnesses had to be interviewed separately. Flint offered to sit with her while being interviewed; Nex lightly winced as he imagined the poor man walking away with holes in his arm, with the way his sister was clinging to it with such long nails. She had offered a little less detail in her version of events, but told the same story as the other two had.

After finishing the third interview and allowing the teenagers to rejoin each other in the foyer, the five moved to Nex’s office. The detective sat behind his desk. “With what we have, I can conclude this does appear to be a case of Damian being taken against his will.” Nex stated. “His belongings - minus his weapon - are still at the school, and if his recent demeanour had been affecting his combat capabilities, Apex could have overpowered him.”

Morrigan shuffled towards her brother and wrapped her arms around him. “Flint… What are we going to do? What if we never see Damian again? What if…” Her voice trailed off as she sniffled. Flint said nothing - he only stroked a hand through her hair.

A knock on the office door interrupted the moment. Nex called out for them to enter, and a woman stepped into the room. “There’s a Mr. Thabine at the front desk,” she said. “He seems quite agitated.”

Silla jumped out of her seat. “That’s my brother.” She explained. “I should go talk to him…”

She hurried out of the room, walking back to the foyer, where she saw her brother pacing the length of the room, two officers unsuccessfully attempting to calm him. He looked up when he saw her enter the room, and his narrowed glare relaxed instantly. “Silla!” He exclaimed, dashing towards her. “Are you alright? I got here as quickly as I could-”

“I’m okay,” she quickly assured him. “Detective Locke just wanted to ask us some questions about Damian. To help them in their investigation.”

Vennox exhaled a sigh of relief. “When I heard you were with the police, I thought it was about-” He stopped, pausing for a second before continuing. “Never mind. As long as you’re alright.”

Morrigan, Flint, Klimt and Nex entered the room. Morrigan turned to her brother. “What do we do now?”

“I know it’s hard, but try to go on as normal. I’ll let you know as soon as we have something new, or anything I think you should know. Okay?” He smiled. “I promise.”

Morrigan weakly smiled back, and let go of his arm. Flint turned to Vennox. “Can I trust you to take them back to Cricland?”

Vennox nodded. “Of course.” He turned and left the building, the three teenagers in tow. Flint and Nex watched them leave, before Nex turned to the other man.

“What should our next move be?” Nex asked.

Flint’s gaze hardened, his hands clenching into fists. “We find him. We find all of them.”

**\---**

It took some time for Damian’s mind to start actively working again. Even then, all he could do was circle the same questions in his head, over and over again. His father? His father had been involved in all of this the whole time? What was with the mechanical thing on his face? Why would his father do all of this in the first place?

Mr. Fabricant began pacing again. “That’s a lie, actually. I’m not really your father. Physically, yes, I suppose I am, in a sense, considering this body did contribute to your existence. However, on a mental level at this point in time, no, I’m not. I’m merely borrowing this body so I can complete my projects. The real genius - the real me - is in here.” He tapped the metallic extension of his head. “So I will be referred to by my name, thank you very much. It’s Mr. Fabricant to you - not ‘Dad’.” He shuddered as the word left his lips.

Logically, what Mr. Fabricant said made perfect sense. But Damian was still struggling to comprehend it. “How… What?” He mumbled. He felt sick with anxiety - his father’s previously kind features were mangled by the robotic extension on his head; a familiarity combined with a monstrosity. His comforting voice had taken on a threatening edge.

“Well, it’s simply, really - your foolish father really shouldn’t have made such an advanced artificial intelligence if he couldn’t handle it. I suppose he was getting desperate to bring back that sister of yours from the state she’s in. I had my plans, but a robotic skull can do very little on its own. So I simply borrowed a means of transportation to carry out those plans.” Mr. Fabricant explained.

A shiver shot down Damian’s spine. He remembered that idea - the idea of creating a robotic body for his sister so she could live her life again. All her personality and memories moved to an android body. It was what had sparked that fatal argument between him and his father in the first place. “Why am I here?”

“Why do you think, genius?” Mr. Fabricant groaned. “It’s time for your conversion. I’ve greatly improved my techniques since Apex and all the others. I think you’ll be the best one yet! Then you’ll go out and pick up the rest of your little friends for me to-”

“Leave them alone.” Damian spat. “Don’t touch any of them, you freak.”

Mr. Fabricant tutted. “Taking such a tone with your father… What an ungrateful boy. I guess I’ll just have to show you.” He reached down and separated Damian’s restraints from whatever he had been chained to. He hauled Damian to his feet and dragged him into another room. He shoved Damian in front of him, using a hand to pull his head back and forcing him to look up.

Before him stood an army of Apex lookalikes, as still and lifeless as any old machine. They all wore helmets obscuring their identities, their metal appendages glinting in the artificial lights overhead. Apex appeared to have at least some of their natural human body left intact - the same couldn’t be said for this batch. Damian couldn’t see any hint of humanity remaining, and he certainly couldn’t count them all - there could have been over a hundred there.

“Why…?” Damian choked out. “Why do this?”

“You still can’t see? How their lives will be improved tenfold thanks to my conversions? How they will be stronger, and faster? They will no longer become hungry, or thirsty, or tired. Their pesky, useless emotions will no longer stand in their way. They are advanced now, and it’s all thanks to me! Once I’m through, all of humanity will have become elevated, and it will all be thanks to me!”

Damian attempted to struggle out of the robot’s grip. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard…!”

“Yes, you humans do fail to understand the simplest of things.” Mr. Fabricant sighed, as he dragged Damian back to his makeshift prison cell. Once they arrived, he threw Damian back to his original place on the floor, and reconnected the boy’s restraints with the pipe behind him. “You have no hope of stopping it, anyway. Perhaps I should make you watch when it inevitably becomes world news…”

“When what becomes world news?” Damian demanded.

“I was going to wait a little bit longer, but I have a sizable army at my disposal already… and I am getting hopelessly bored, I admit. Even someone like me wants to watch something fun happen. Which is why I’m going to launch it now!”

Damian swallowed down his unease. “And ‘it’ is…?”

Mr. Fabricant turned to face him, a malevolent grin on his face. “Why, the revolution, of course.”


	21. Roses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elas and Marina make an effort to help Morrigan, Klimt and Silla cope with Damian's abduction - although a large fleet approaching the city soon calls them to arms...

Flint watched the ducks floating on the pond in front of him. The park in the city was empty, as was to be expected - no one wanted to risk wandering around outside at night. It was the perfect environment for him to clear his head after such a stressful day. He didn’t want to go back to his hotel just yet; his mind was swimming far too much. He had messaged Coraline several minutes earlier, but a part of him wasn’t expecting her to answer. She may have gone to bed; she did lead a busy life.

His phone began vibrating, Coraline’s name having appeared on screen, along with the smiling photo of her that was registered on her profile in his contacts. Relief flooded through Flint’s body as he accepted the call and lifted the phone to his ear. “Hey.”

_ “Hey. How is everything? Your text had me worried - you put one less kiss at the end than you normally do.”  _ Flint could hear the smile in her voice.

He chuckled. “I just wanted to hear your voice. And to ask how you were doing. Are you okay?”

_ “I’m fine. Filming is all wrapped up, and they said they doubt we’ll be needed for any reshoots. I just booked my flight home earlier.” _

Flint smiled. “That’s great. I’m glad to hear it. I can’t wait to see you.”

_ “I want to see you, too. I don’t like not seeing you for months on end.”  _ She paused.  _ “So what’s up?” _

Flint sighed, running a hand through his hair. “There’s been another abduction. One of Morrigan’s friends. She’s worried sick about him - they all are.”

Coraline gasped.  _ “That’s awful. They’re just kids… This kind of thing shouldn’t happen to anyone, but these guys… They’re still so young.” _

“I want to tell her everything will be okay. That he’ll be fine, that we’ll get him home safe, and we’ll get the bad guy at the end. That’s my job, as her big brother. But as a soldier… I can’t say that. I can’t get her hopes up just to disappoint her later. And given our track record so far, it would be a lie anyway.”

_ “You’re doing everything you can. For Morrigan, for her friends, and for all those other poor people that were taken. You always try to carry the whole world on your shoulders, but eventually you’ll just break. She’ll appreciate you just being there for her until you find her friend.”  _ She paused, taking a breath as though to speak, but hesitating for several seconds.  _ “When I get back in a couple days… I could meet her.” _

Flint abruptly rose from his seat. “What? Are you sure? I thought we were going to hold off on that for a bit longer…”

_ “I know, but… I want to help, and if this is how I can help best, then so be it. It won’t get her friend back in the current moment, but it might at least raise her spirits. What do you say?” _

Flint hesitated. “I don’t want you to feel forced if you’re not ready…”

_ “I don’t feel forced. I promise. I do want to help. If seeing her smile can ease your worries about her even just a bit, then I want to do it.” _

Flint smiled, nodding. “Okay. Then… thank you. She’d love it. Make sure you have a pen on you, though - she’ll want an autograph. And pictures. And she might bug you about what happens in the next series.”

Coraline laughed.  _ “I don’t doubt that. She’s in for a rollercoaster.” _

**\---**

The weather the next morning was pleasant - the breeze carried a light floral scent. Elas found the school gardens peaceful to stroll through, even with eyes turning in his direction as he walked. Marina followed from a small distance behind him, hands shoved into her jacket pockets. Her raised brow scared away students that were staring for a little too long.

Elas gasped as he recognised familiar shapes seated at one of the many tables in the garden. Morrigan and the remnants of her team appeared to be enjoying tea, alongside several baked snacks - cakes and biscuits were piled up on plates. Although ‘enjoying’ was a loose term; none of them seemed particularly jovial, given their downcast expressions. Morrigan absentmindedly stirred her tea. Silla looked down at the table, twirling strands of her hair over her finger. Klimt watched the sky.

Elas stepped forward to approach them, but was stopped by a hand on his arm. “I have an idea,” Marina hissed to him. “Wait here - I’ll be back.”

Before Elas could form a reply, Marina dashed back the way they had walked, vanishing from his view in the blink of an eye. Elas huffed impatiently and waited in an archway, ensuring he was hidden from the three.

He was beginning to grow anxiously impatient as the minutes passed by. He glanced at his phone - eight minutes had passed since Marina left him. Where was she?

Hurried footsteps approaching his position drew his attention, and he breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the blonde soldier rushing towards him. She was carrying a bundle of what appeared to be paper and plastic, and stopped before him with a sharp exhale. “Sorry about that. I ran into town.”

Elas blinked. “You ran into the city and back in ten minutes?”

Marina shrugged. “I kicked everyone’s ass in track and field in school. Anyway, here. I got these for you.” She shoved the bundle into his arms.

Elas examined it - at that angle, he could identify it as a bouquet of roses. Black roses. He hadn’t even been aware that black roses existed. He glanced up at Marina, frowning. “For… me?”

“Well, no, not for  _ you _ . I meant for you to give to Morrigan. A nice gift like this will cheer her up a bit. I saw these and thought they were perfect. Black roses is something a goth like her would love.”

“What is a goth?”

Marina stared. “Never mind. Just go over there.” She pushed him closer to the three.

Somewhat unwillingly, Elas approached the table, hiding the flowers behind his back. Klimt looked up after seeing movement in the corner of his eye, and nudged Morrigan’s arm to get her attention. When Morrigan glanced away from her tea, she saw Elas, and a smile spread across her lips. “Elas!”

“Hello,” he greeted, removing one hand behind his back to wave. “Um… I just wanted to offer my condolences. About Damian. And to say that if there’s anything I can do to help, you need only ask.”

Morrigan’s smile fell away. Her expression reverted back to the frown she had been wearing before noticing him. Silla turned to him with a strained smile. “Thank you.”

The five stood in silence as the conversation died. Marina nudged him and gestured in a very ‘what are you waiting for?’ manner. Elas fidgeted on his feet before deciding to simply get it over with. At least Morrigan would look less ridiculous, holding a bouquet of flowers.

“I, um… got you these.” Elas continued, removing the bouquet from behind him and presenting them to Morrigan. “To properly express my sorrow about your teammate. And… I thought they might cheer you up.”

Morrigan stared at the flowers with wide eyes, frozen for several seconds, before taking them from Elas and hugging them to her chest. “They’re so beautiful.” She smiled. “I love them.”

Elas smiled. “Yes, well, I admit it wasn’t exactly my idea. I have Marina to thank for it.”

Morrigan placed the flowers on the table and leaned over to wrap her arms around Elas, hugging him tightly. Klimt moved to stop her, stammering the beginning of a sentence, but it was too late. Somehow, Elas managed not to blush at the contact.

Until Morrigan readjusted her position slightly to move back and plant a kiss on Elas’ cheek. “Thank you.” She said. “You guys are so sweet.”

Elas’ cheeks burned red, and he was relatively certain Klimt was glaring at him. “Um… you’re welcome.” He responded, quickly looking away from Klimt. If looks could kill, Elas would most certainly be reduced to ashes.

Morrigan released Elas and leaned back in her chair. “Are you busy? You should join us. The tea is still warm, and we have plenty of snacks left. I feel kind of bad for letting them go kind of cold.”

Elas glanced at Marina, who shrugged. “We don’t exactly have anywhere else to be,” she said.

Elas nodded and turned back to Morrigan. “We’d be delighted to.”

He seated himself next to Silla, allowing Marina to sit next to Klimt. She hadn’t exactly incurred his wrath, after all. Morrigan prepared cups for them and poured the tea. Marina grabbed as many biscuits and cakes as she could fit into her hand. Soon, the five were chatting animatedly.

Marina silently nodded to him from across the table, and Elas smiled back. The three’s previously despondent spirits had certainly been lifted.

Then Marina frowned, nodded at him, and rubbed at her own cheek. Elas copied her movements, rubbing his cheek, and stared at the hand he had used - a red smudge was smeared across the top of his hand. His eyes widened, glancing up at the red lipstick Morrigan was wearing. Marina barely stifled a laugh with her hand.

**\---**

Unsurprisingly, there was very little to do while being held captive by a robotic psychopath.

Damian leaned his head back against the wall, staring against the grey ceiling. Not that he could see any colour, or anything at all - Mr. Fabricant had turned the lights off before he left the room, plunging Damian into darkness. He didn’t exactly need to be able to see to sit there.

With only his mind for company, his thoughts raced. He found himself remembering how the whole mess had started in the first place - the day his father had summoned him to reveal his grand plan to revive Ella.

~

_ The sudden summons from his father was the only reason Damian had left his room at all that day. His bed, if he was being specific - these days, he rarely had any energy to do anything anymore. _

_ Half-heartedly closing the door behind him, Damian trudged downstairs to the laboratory. He passed the door where Ella was sleeping, and stopped. He hadn’t seen her for a while, and he wanted to pay a visit. _

_ He shook his head and passed by. He didn’t have the right to see her ever again. _

_ He entered the laboratory and saw his father scribbling at his workbench. Damian frowned at how energetic the man seemed to be - hardly the usual temperament of a man whose daughter was practically dead and whose son was a total failure. _

_ He approached his father. “What?” _

_ Ezudus looked up from his work, smiling. “Ah, Damian. I think I finally have it. I know what we’re going to do about Ella.” He pushed some blueprints towards the boy. “If we construct a robotic body for her, and transfer her soul and memories into that body, the physical damage keeping her comatose will be removed, and she’ll wake up.” _

_ Damian’s shoulders sagged. “What...?” _

_ Ezudus seemingly didn’t notice his son’s monotone utter. “We’ll need the correct materials, of course, some of which aren’t readily available on the market - but I might be able to pull a few favours with the UAF technology department. They should have what we need. Then it might take some time for her to get used to moving around and walking again, but we can help with that. I’ll start making calls in the morning-” _

_ “Stop.” _

_ Ezudus looked up, frowning. Damian gripped the edge of the table so hard, his knuckles were white and trembling. His eyes were narrowed into a harsh glare. “You can’t do this. No one’s ever done it before, and trying it on Ella… It’s too risky. What if it doesn’t work?” _

_ “We won’t know until we try,” Ezudus pointed out. “If we do everything right, it should work. We have to try, Damian, for her sake. She shouldn’t be comatose for the rest of her life - she should be living out her life. This may be the only chance of giving her that life back. If the two of us work on it together, that increases our chances of success, right?” _

_ “You heard what the doctors said. They said she’d be like that forever. Weren’t you listening? Or are you conveniently ignoring that part?” _

_ Ezudus flinched at his son’s harsh tone. Damian was quiet and somewhat shy - he always had been, to a degree. But he had never heard Damian’s voice take on such a scathing tone before. He’d certainly never spoken that way to his own father. _

_ Ezudus fumbled with the pen in his hand as he stuttered a response. “I-I just want Ella back, just as much as you do-!” _

_ Damian sighed and turned away. “And like I keep telling you - I don’t deserve to see her. How am I supposed to look her in the eye after what happened?” _

_ “She won’t blame you for that; neither do I. What happened wasn’t your fault-” _

_ “But it was!” Damian yelled. “It was my fault! If I’d been stronger, better… Ella wouldn’t be in that state. There’s no reversing that, either. Ella’s gone, Dad. She’s gone, and I ruined her. Because I was weak, just like Mom said. Denying it just makes you look like a delusional old fool!” _

_ Damian stormed out of the room, ignoring Ezudus’ cries of his name, and slammed the door shut. Damian was supposed to be attending Krimholdt in two weeks’ time - how could he live so close to his insane father, who would only continue to bother him with his unrealistic ideas? _

_ He managed to find a way on Cricland’s enrolment list several days later, under some fake surname he had come up with at the last minute. He left home for the harbour without saying goodbye to his father. He pushed the old man out of his mind during the boat ride, and again on the train from the harbour to Ardepolis Station. _

~

If he knew those words had been the last he would ever say to his father, Damian would have stopped himself. He kicked himself for being so stupid - of course Ella’s condition was his fault, but he shouldn’t have taken it out on his father. Now his father was gone, as well as Ella.

Damian laughed - maybe being turned into a robotic puppet wasn’t so bad of an idea. Not if it meant he could escape having to live without his family.

**\---**

A shrill ring from Marina’s earpiece drew her attention away from the conversation. She stood up, using the back of her hand to wipe away any lingering crumbs from around her mouth. “I need to take this. Be right back.” She said. She stepped away from the table before lifting a finger to her ear. “What is it?”

_ “A large presence has been detected approaching the city, ma’am,”  _ the private on the other end informed her.  _ “But as far as we can tell, they aren’t Nephiles.” _

“What?” Marina exclaimed. “But you have no visual on exactly what they are?”

_ “No, ma’am. Only that there’s a lot of them. Hundreds, maybe more.” _

Marina sighed. “Okay. I’ll go see for myself.” She moved back towards the table and turned to Elas. “Do you mind staying here for a bit? There’s some kind of disturbance down in the city, and I want to see what it is for myself. The poor private on the other end sounded worried.”

“Oh, um, of course.” Elas nodded.

With permission granted, Marina left school grounds and walked into Ardepolis. She passed by several people who had stopped in the middle of their routines to stare at the sky and whisper to each other. Marina followed their lead and craned her neck upwards. There certainly were a flock of distant shapes flying towards the city - from such a distance, they could almost be mistaken for birds.

As they descended and drew closer, one could see that they definitely were not birds.

Before Marina could move, the figures began falling faster, dropping out of the sky and smashing into the ground, landing in crouching positions before rising to their feet. It was as though Apex had multiplied - hundreds upon hundreds of figures identical to Apex now swarmed the streets.

The first screams rippled into the air as they began swinging their swords and firing energy beams.

Marina drew her own weapon from her belt and tapped her earpiece. “This is Lieutenant Brunnhilde; any and all capable combatants are needed in Ardepolis stat! There’s a swarm of Apex duplicates attacking!”


	22. Unmasked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Students and trained Hunters alike must work together to fend off the robotic army attack; in between the chaos, Apex's identity is revealed...

Everyone in the school had rushed into the city upon hearing of the attack. Silla was trailing behind her teammates, staff in hand, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Her heart skipped a beat as she whirled around, and exhaled deeply when she saw Vennox. “You scared me,” she whispered, raising a hand to her chest.

“Sorry. But… maybe you shouldn’t get involved with this. What’s happening out there is dangerous, and I can’t keep an eye on you and fight at my best at the same time. You shouldn’t get hurt because of this.” Vennox told her. “Maybe you should stay behind and help protect everyone here.”

Silla sighed, placing a hand on her brother’s arm. “I appreciate that you’re just trying to protect me. But I came to this school so I could protect others in the same way. Hunters don’t turn away from the action - they run towards it. So I’m going to be fighting alongside you. I have to.”

Vennox paused, the uneasiness in his eyes slowly melting away. “Sorry. You’re right. It’s an old habit, I guess. Come on, then.”

Silla nodded and followed after her brother as they ran towards Ardepolis. The sounds of screaming and destruction became louder as they approached. Citizens ran in every direction, avoiding destroyed cars, holes in the roads, and beams of energy. People resembling Apex shuffled through the streets and flew through the air. Silla looked up and saw some flying away, carrying something. Her stomach sank as she realised they were holding people.

“Crap… They’re here for more people.” Flint muttered from nearby. “Don’t let them take any more victims! Take them down!”

At his cry, the teachers and the soldiers charged forwards, brandishing their weapons. Silla caught sight of one robot cornering a woman, and raised her staff. Flames gushed forwards, enveloping them in embers. While the robot shook themselves free of the flames, the woman nodded at Silla gratefully and rose to her feet, dashing out of sight.

The robot emerged from the flames, their helmet and clothes burned with patches of soot. They raised their sword and swung it down, and Silla raised her staff to meet it. Before her opponent could make another move, she directed a finger to point at their feet, and a gust of wind erupted from underneath them, sending them flying into the air. As they descended to the ground, Silla swung her staff into their side, and they were launched away, crashing into a wall.

Morrigan swung her axe through a robot’s sword, the blade shattering to pieces. She spun to swing her axe again, this time into their stomach. The impact catapulted them into the air, but they steadied themselves as they hovered. Morrigan flipped her guitar until she was holding the body, and activated the shotgun. She pressed the trigger, sending cartridges hurtling through the air. The robot swerved in the air to avoid them, and raised their palm, shooting a beam of energy towards her. Her eyes widened, and before she could sidestep out of the way, a figure moved between them, swinging an even larger axe through the beam, causing the energy to dissipate harmlessly into the air. Seconds passed before the figure swung their axe again, bringing the robot crashing to the ground.

Morrigan stared as the figure turned around. It was a woman with grey hair tied into a neat bun. She turned, regarding Morrigan with determined eyes. “Are you alright?” She asked. “You’re not hurt?”

Morrigan shook her head. “Um, no… Thanks to you. Who are you?”

“My name is Miele. Come; we still have plenty of work to do.” Offering a curt nod, Miele ran towards another target. Morrigan stared after her - wasn’t the queen’s name Miele? She had heard that somewhere. She shook the thought away and focused on getting out of the fight alive.

Klimt exhaled a sigh of relief as he watched Miele jump to Morrigan’s rescue. He had been on the way to such a task himself, but she had gotten there first - he would have to thank her later. He was pulled away from looking at Morrigan upon hearing a pained groan. He turned towards the sound and saw an older man on the ground, bleeding from the ankle as a robot approached him, sword raised. 

Klimt’s mind flashed back to their first defence of the city, of the sight of the blood and bodies of people they had been too late to save. He remembered how much it had shaken him - the sleepless nights, the guilt weighing him down, the feeling that he was nothing but a failure.

Not today.

Klimt saw an exposed part of the robot’s neck - clearly a section that had not been replaced by metal. He raised his sword and pressed a button on the hilt, sending a small dart shooting through the air. The dart stabbed into their neck, making them stumble, temporarily distracting them from their target. Klimt rushed forward to close the gap between them, slashing his sword at their abdomen. They stumbled back, but Klimt didn’t stop - his blade flashed before him again and again and again. The dark blue light of the robot’s Vitality flickered over their body. Klimt stood still, sword raised, prepared to strike if necessary. Instead of retaliating, the robot turned and flew away.

Klimt sheathed Karuma and ran to the man, lifting him to his feet and helping him take shelter away from the fighting. Catching sight of Silla nearby, he called to her. “He’s hurt,” he explained as she rushed over. “Can you heal him?”

“Of course,” Silla nodded. She removed the Fire Gemstone from her staff and replaced it with a Life stone. Her hand glowed green as she directed the energy towards the injured man, her palm hovering over the wound. The blood clotted and the wound sealed. The only evidence of the injury was a white scar. The man repeatedly thanked the two before fleeing from the battle.

Klimt exhaled as he stepped back into the conflict. That was one face he would not be seeing in his nightmares, and he was relieved for it.

His pride crumbled when he heard Flint swear loudly. Following the soldier’s gaze, Klimt saw it - Nephiles swarming into the city. Nephiles were attracted to fear; of course such a large scale attack would lure them to the city. Breannas and Erelisas - the latter of which resembled an eagle - streamed through the air, scanning the crowd below for victims. The Armaduras clacked through the streets, their eight eyes spinning in all directions as they observed the chaos. Bonvues raced towards vulnerable people, eager to sink their teeth into new prey.

While a Nephile attack of any kind was a horrific occurrence, it was the colossal shape scaling the royal castle that captured most of the Hunters’ attention. An Armaduras Major sat perched on the side of the building. Armaduras Majors were identical to regular Armaduras, aside from the fact that the Majors were so very much bigger. The Major perched on the castle was as large as the building itself.

“What are we going to do about that thing?” Marina yelled. “We need to lure it away from the castle! That’s where we’re sending the civilians to hide!”

“Allow me to deal with that.”

All nearby eyes turned to Amoveus. He stood poised and collected, as though an all-out war was not unfolding around him. His gaze was firmly settled on the Major. “I won’t let it lay a hand on anyone.”

Fenmore shook their head rapidly. “But, sir…! It’s too dangerous for you to deal with alone. Take me with you!”

“And me.” Dravena volunteered. “If we’re to slay the Major, we need to reach its stomach. It will take more than one person to sufficiently distract it to do that.”

Ash withdrew her weapon from a defeated Bonvue. “I want to help too. We can’t let you do this on your own, sir.”

“Dove, you go with them. If anyone is already hurt, they’ll need your help.” Flint told the teacher. “We’re counting on you.”

Amoveus paused, but he eventually nodded to the gathered group before turning and making his way towards the palace, Fenmore, Dravena, Ash and Dove following closely behind him.

Marina turned upon hearing a heavy  _ thunk  _ behind her. A robot landed before her, brandishing a blade. Before she swung her lance, a familiar mark on their neck made her pause. “001… Apex.” Marina muttered. “Look at all of this!” Marina swung her arm wide. “All this destruction, and for what? I sure hope you’re proud of yourself!”

As expected, Apex offered no verbal response. A shape colliding into their side made them stumble; Morrigan swung her axe again, but Apex jumped back to avoid it. They launched themselves into the air and shot a beam of energy from their palm. Morrigan cried as the beam hit her and pushed her back.

Before Apex could launch another attack at Morrigan, a tornado of wind from beneath their feet sent them hurtling to the ground. As they were pushing themselves to their feet, Silla lowered her hand and quickly raised her staff, inserting a purple Gemstone into her staff and pointing it at Apex. A purple hue emanated from Apex’s feet - they tried lifting their feet away from the ground, but they did not budge.

Several robots had noticed their ally in trouble, and were closing in to assist them. Marina dug into her belt pouch and pulled out a grenade. She yanked the pull ring out of the explosive and threw it at the approaching robots. The resulting explosion blew each of them away.

Apex raised a palm to shoot Silla, but Marina ran towards the redhead and pulled her out of the way. The beam shot passed the two and fizzled into a wall. Silla shot a grateful smile at Marina.

Klimt and Morrigan closed the gap between them and Apex and jumped into the air, raising their weapons up before swinging them down. The blades of their weapons crashed into Apex’s helmet. The metal of the helmet cracked and fell away, crumbling to the ground in pieces.

Apex fell to their knees as long, blonde hair cascaded down their back and around their face.

All four of them stared at Apex’s newly unmasked face. They -  _ she _ \- slowly looked up, revealing a terrified expression and mismatched eyes; one was blue, the other an electronic looking pink. The girl glanced around at the four gaping at her before grasping her head, shaking it rapidly, and shooting into the sky.

“Wait!” Morrigan cried, raising a hand to reach after her, but it was too late. Apex had vanished into the clouds. She turned towards Klimt. “Hey, didn’t that girl look kind of familiar to you? I swear I’ve seen her before somewhere…”

Silla turned to Marina, frowning. “Are you okay? You’ve gone rather pale…”

Marina slowly turned to look back to Silla. “I… I mean… listen, I-”

“Break their helmets!” Nex yelled from nearby. The four startled at his voice - he must have witnessed what had just occurred. “That seems to break them out of whatever trance they’re under!”

The surrounding fighters followed their orders. After subduing the robots, they slammed their weapons onto the robots’ heads, shattering them to pieces. The robots began collapsing to the ground immediately afterwards, their eyes fluttering closed. Silla watched with a frown - why were they collapsing? Apex had remained conscious, enough to flee the battlefield. She cautiously approached one unconscious man. She pressed two fingers to his neck. 

Seconds later, she gasped. “Wait, stop…! That’s killing them!”

Elas whirled towards her, his sword held above his head. “What?” He muttered. He glanced back to the robot before him - he had been moments away from swinging his sword down onto their helmet. He was moments away from taking a human life. He almost dropped his sword at the thought, his stomach churning unpleasantly.

“B-But then what do we do?” Morrigan fretted. “We have to stop them from hurting more people, but I don’t want to kill anyone…!”

“Maybe we can try and capture them, and remove their helmets more delicately?” Klimt suggested. “If the helmets are keeping them alive, maybe removing them slowly can increase their chances of survival without them…”

Flint opened his mouth to retort, but a voice stopped him. “Sir?” Marina began. “I… I think I have an idea about all of this. About how we can stop it. But to do that, we need to go to Ustrad.”

“Why?” Flint asked.

Marina hesitated for a moment. “Because Apex is Elladora Fabricant.”


End file.
